


don't worry, love (we've found our destiny)

by cursive



Series: i'll sing to you softly 'til you drift to sleep [1]
Category: NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: (mostly) Canon Compliant, Angst, Character Study, Kissing, M/M, Minhyun has a weird but very close relationship with the rest of Nu'est, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Navel-Gazing, Slow Burn, light humor, panic/anxiety attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2018-12-31 13:42:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cursive/pseuds/cursive
Summary: “You dance like you’re trying to join them”, Seongwoo breaks the silence, venom dripping from his voice. “On rank D. That fucking sucked.”Minhyun wonders how Seongwoo can multitask having a panic attack and taunting random trainees when he can barely convey one feeling at a time, himself.“Do you really think you’re in any condition to pick a fight, Seongwoo?”, he asks as softly as he can, refusing to stoop to the other boy’s level.alternatively, five times minhyun and seongwoo kissed during produce 101 (and everything in between)





	1. if at first you don't succeed you gotta recreate your misery

**Author's Note:**

> time to re-edit this since the only thing that still stands true is that this is a very angsty bed bugs prequel:
> 
> 1\. alternating povs (minhyun/seongwoo/occasional surprise third wheel), sometimes with two or more chapters in the same pov in a row (unconfirmed, will come back to rectify if needed)  
> 2\. sometimes a kiss happens between two characters, not always onghwang, not always in a romantic way (remember bed bugs: they kissed exactly five times in broduce. i intend to stick to that number)  
> 3\. will be updated as i watch broduce; i.e. i'm currently on episode 5 so i will update regularly until i'm done with justice league/first elimination  
> 4\. chapter summaries are tweets taken from [threat update](https://twitter.com/threat_update)  
> 5\. most chapter titles are taken from lyrics of the songs featured in this [fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/andr0medas/playlist/7wMESdLO9GBwQVkfpCZUNE); sorry in advance for all the oldschool emocore  
> 6\. there's a whole lot of nu'est/pledis boys in this so uh. not a good read for minhyun akgaes (i don't think international minhyun akgaes even exist but still, you're also here for the nu'est experience)  
> 7\. incredibly slow burn; run while you can  
> 8\. pay attention to the tags, there will be graphic-ish descriptions of uh Bad Mental Health Stuff  
> 9\. i'm so sorry in advance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> current threat level is khaki
> 
> ours is a culture of disgrace

It starts with Jonghyun.

“So, I’ve been thinking”, he announces during a cool and lazy afternoon as he walks into the living room. Minki does not look up from his phone, which he had been staring at for the past hour, unmoving on the couch; Aron, however, looks up from whatever series he has picked to watch on Netflix (in _English_ , with no subtitles, that little shit), watching Jonghyun curiously as he fidgeted on his toes.

Minhyun stops his cleaning – _stress cleaning_ , as Minki calls it, and Minhyun had half a heart to disagree (he hadn’t touched the living room for _three days_! Hell knows how much of a mess the others could make in that period of time) –, watching Jonghyun more intently than the others. Not because he cares any more about what their leader has to say – stagnancy makes the words _leader_ and _decisions_ lose a lot of their specific meaning within the group –, but because it is a good excuse to allow his sore body to rest for a bit before taking on the bathroom (always quite the task, unless he had recruited help – not the case, this time).

“Dongho’s not here”, Minki deadpans, sounding bored and – Minhyun might be wrong, of course, he’s not the best at reading people – a little bitter. Jonghyun does not seem to mind their maknae’s tone.

“Ah, Dongho-yah has been spending an awful lot of time in the studio these days, huh?”, Jonghyun questions, talking to himself rather than to any of them.

Minki huffs. Now he _definitely_ sounds bitter. “No idea what for”, he grumbles, frowning at his phone. Jonghyun’s tentative smile falters. “’S not like we’ve been doing much, these days.”

_Ah, there it is._

Minhyun sighs. It had been going on for a while, that kind of attitude; Minhyun knew exactly where it came from, how much their stagnancy was starting to get on everyone’s nerves. They had different ways of coping with it, of course; Minki’s was just more… _pronounced_ than theirs, manifesting itself in bouts of petty anger, lashing out at even Jonghyun’s sweetest attempts at cheering him up, shunning Aron’s offers of support and venting sessions, refusing to move when Minhyun wanted to vacuum the living room. Minhyun did not like to use the term _insufferable_ on Minki out of a strictly playful context, yet he would often find himself thinking that of his longtime friend and group mate.

Dongho was a little different: whenever he felt any close to full helplessness over their situation, he would lock himself up in the studio for entire days in a row, not coming back to the dorm until he had completely worn himself out into exhaustion, stubble darkening his features and thinner than he was before he left. It was a terrible coping mechanism, they all knew it, Dongho included, yet no one had the heart to stop him, perhaps too afraid that he would resort to more self-destructive ways of dealing with whatever was going on inside his mind.

Minhyun just hopes he makes it back for dinner, today.

Aron had been injured for a while, now, sitting out of their occasional dance practices and staying home more often than not; it worried Minhyun to an extent that he might also be feeling as strange as the rest of them, but he had always been a good actor when it came to pretending he was okay to his dongsaengs; again, Minhyun might be good at analyzing different kinds of situations and predict outcomes, but when it came to reading people individually, he had always fallen short.

Even when it came to understanding what was going on within his own mind.

He prefers not to dwell on it; all too aware that there is something happening to him too, perhaps something similar to what Dongho and Minki were going through, but on a more subdued – or suppressed – scale. Something dormant, much like how he feels on a daily basis, connected on a shallow emotional level to the others, disconnected from how he feels about their situation – it is better that way. He would not want to awaken the beast when they already had Dongho’s and Minki’s to deal with, when they had yet to decipher Aron’s enigmatic looks and reticent silence, when Minhyun had yet to rip a confession out of Jonghyun that he, too, felt the pressure the others did.

Still, Jonghyun chooses not to chide Minki, this time; it is Aron who breaks the silence. “Jonghyun-ah, you were saying…?”

Their leader shakes his head, smile weak but still in place. “I’ll tell you guys when Dongho comes home. It’s important that we… discuss this together.”

Aron nods before unpausing his series and Jonghyun makes to leave for his room; Minki scoffs. “You already know what I think about it”, the youngest mutters under his breath, yet none of them miss it. Jonghyun stills in his spot, slowly turning around to face Minki. One of the perks of having a roommate, Minhyun thinks, is that most of the times they get to know whatever’s going on each other’s minds first. Sometimes it is for the best; other times it only ends up setting them at each other’s throats.

“Minki”, Jonghyun starts, evenly, like the calm before a storm, “we’ll talk about this later. _Together_. All of us.”

Minki scowls, still not looking at Jonghyun. “Won’t change my mind.”

Minhyun suppresses the urge to smack at his legs with his broom for the brattiness; Jonghyun seems to notice his annoyance and sends him a look; _it’s okay_ , he tells him with his eyes, and Minhyun pretends to believe him for a moment before sighing and putting his broom away.

“Do you guys want to grill meat for dinner? I’ll go out to buy some”, he proposes, and _that_ catches both Aron’s and Minki’s attention. He smiles, looking directly at Minki, whose frown falters for a moment, threatens to open up into something lighter. “It’s not the same as barbecue, I know, but—we can treat ourselves every once in a while.”

Jonghyun does not wait for the others to respond, catching Minhyun’s eyes with his; his gratefulness goes unsaid. “Sounds great. I’ll call Dongho.”

They nod at each other before Minhyun looks back at Minki, the frown on his forehead slightly smoothened out.

xxx

“So I’ve been thinking”, Jonghyun tries again when the five of them are reunited on the dinner table, watching Minhyun carefully maneuver the grill and drop a large piece of meat on Minki’s plate.

“A dangerous thing for you to do”, Minki quips, in a lighter tone than earlier that day, sitting comfortably between Aron and a silent Dongho, who came home after much nagging from both Jonghyun and Minhyun, but still seems to be lost somewhere else. Jonghyun sends Minki a look, but, once again, decides against admonishing him.

“Maybe”, he shrugs, shoulders heavy with more than just responsibility, this time, Minhyun notices before reminding himself one last time that he’s bad at reading people ( _Jonghyun_ , _however_ , a small voice in his mind supplies, _has been more than_ a people _for a long time, now_ ). “But it could help us.”

Minki rolls his eyes; not even meat could pacify him, now. “Like hell it could.”

“ _Mink_ i”, Aron finally speaks up, using his _eldest hyung_ voice, “Let Jonghyun speak.”

It works. The youngest grunts an apology and Jonghyun smiles at Aron with the same gratefulness he showed to Minhyun earlier before he continues. “It’s kind of a crazy idea, but it could work—if you guys are willing to go through this with me.”

He pauses; no one says anything for a while, staring at him expectantly (Minki stares a hole into the piece of meat on his plate). Jonghyun takes a deep breath, shoulders visibly tensing up. “The auditions for the second season of Produce 101 have started. I thought—“ Another pause; he looks away from his groupmates, from the table, looking for a familiar yet immovable anchor to help him say whatever he has to say. “I thought that maybe we could participate.”

 _Oh_. It comes as no surprise to Minhyun, and to none of the others; if he had to be honest to himself, the idea had crossed his mind more than once, after seeing their labelmates (and _friends,_ more importantly) succeed in the show that year and knowing _someone_ would get sent again for the next season.

That _someone_ might just be one of them, all things considered.

Aron carefully sets his chopsticks down, looking intently at Jonghyun. “Have you… have you talked to—”

He trails off, but Jonghyun picks up from where he stopped. “I have, actually, hyung.” He still can’t bring himself to look at the others in their faces. “It wasn’t his idea, though.”

“So you thought about it on your own?”, Aron asks evenly, almost deceptively calm.

Jonghyun scratches at the back of his neck. “I had a long talk with Nayoung about it, too. I wanted to know how things were there. What exactly we’re going to have to sacrifice.”

“We’re sacrificing ourselves as _a group_ if we do this”, Minki retorts, stabbing at the meat with a chopstick (and startling Dongho from his daze). “It might be a point of no return if we don’t do as well as we would _need_ to.”

He sends a challenging glare to Jonghyun, who stares back in resignation. “I know”, he says simply, “this is why I wanted us to talk carefully about it. It could be our last chance but it could also be our _only_ chance.” Jonghyun sighs, looking away from Minki. “There’s only so much money for album recording that we can ask for. It’s bound to take a toll on them. On _us_.”

Minhyun takes out another piece of meat from the grill, placing it on Aron’s plate; his own remains empty and he no longer feels hungry. It is a heavy conversation, he knows, and he should react accordingly.

(Jonghyun’s image across from him looks – feels – more distant than before; Minhyun is no longer sure he is sitting at the table or watching from a safe distance his leader and bandmates discuss a matter that also involves him, but that awakens a strange form of _exhaustion_ within him, strong enough to silence any thoughts he might have on the matter)

(he’s there, he knows, sitting at that same table with his _brothers_ ; at the same time, he’s not)

He misses out on most of the discussion, grilling meat mechanically like he had done it for ages (he has, for _them_ ; it had been a while since the last time they could afford to splurge on Korean meat, though), words like _disband_ and _unfair_ and _humiliating_ reaching his ears but not quite his mind. A quick look at Dongho’s knitted eyebrows tells him that these words _might_ be reaching him a little deeper, that he might be taking them into account; Minhyun thinks there should be a lump on his throat but he feels nothing.

He barely registers the tears streaming down Minki’s face as he argues with Jonghyun until Aron gingerly reaches out to wipe at them, the gentle touch finally breaking something within the maknae. He stops mid-sentence and falls into the safety of hyung’s arms, and that’s when Minhyun turns off the grill and decides to try and _focus_ on what’s going on.

Jonghyun looks as guilty as he probably feels; Dongho still looks down, that somber look on his face turning his features darker, heavier. Aron whispers meaningless words of comfort into Minki’s hair like he knows they will be as ineffective as they are meaningless.

Minhyun thinks he might be a little too late to the discussion until he sees Dongho lift his head up, the act in itself so surprising to him that – all of a sudden – Dongho looks and _feels_ and _sounds_ a hundred miles away. He blinks a few times, once, twice, thrice, until Dongho is back into focus, the fleeting sensation of not being _fully_ there partially gone.

“I think we should”, Dongho declares, voice distant but determined, and Minhyun comes crashing down back to earth, back to their table. “We should audition. It’s worth a shot.”

Jonghyun looks up at Dongho in surprise and freezes for a moment; Minki also goes still in Aron’s arms, not even daring to breathe until Dongho speaks again.

“We don’t really have much left to lose. The least we can do is refuse to go down without a fight.”

Minki sobs a little louder and Aron tightens his hold on him; Jonghyun nods mechanically, looking at Dongho like he had just seen a ghost.

(and maybe he did; the ghost of what Dongho used to be, made out of sheer determination and the right amount of optimism, before the specter of frustration and the feeling that all their efforts were futile overtook them one by one)

“I can’t, though”, Aron says after a moment. “I don’t think I’ll be able to audition… in my condition.”

It’s Minki’s turn to tighten his grip on the eldest. “We can’t go without you, hyung.”

Aron chuckles lightly, ruffling the younger’s hair. “’Course you can. You guys are in perfect condition to. I’m… not.”

Minhyun looks at Aron, much closer than Dongho had looked before, something in the way he looks down on Minki telling Minhyun something Aron refused to, but Minhyun does not quite know what. Jonghyun seems to understand, much better than Minhyun ever would, anyway, and he nods, a sad smile gracing his features.

“Please cheer us on, hyung”, he tells the eldest, reaching out to grasp at his hand from across the table; Aron’s meets his halfway.

“You don’t have to ask me for that”, he retorts, amusement coloring his voice.

Dongho looks straight ahead, determined but still not quite there. Minhyun fleetingly wishes he knew where Dongho was in that moment so he could keep him company. “We’ll miss you, hyung”, he then says, still looking at no one in particular and not even flinching when Aron reaches out to pat his head.

Jonghyun’s eyes meet Minhyun’s in a silent question. Minhyun carefully considers elaborating a long verbal answer, voicing his thoughts on the whole thing, having a more consistent opinion, but for the time being he settles for a nod. Even Minki, now resigned to quiet sniffling, looks less wary of the idea; he might as well accept it, too.

Later that night, Minhyun sneaks into Minki’s and Jonghyun’s room, making himself comfortable next to the maknae, who makes a sound of vague protest in his sleepy daze but soon adjusts himself to fit the two of them in his bed.

He plants a noisy kiss on the top of Minki’s head for good measure before drifting asleep; they’d have a long day of practice ahead, for a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71wFUYUbtjs). let's hope my nu'est characterizations/borderline projections are at least Vaguely Accurate


	2. such blinding stars for starving eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> current threat level is blue
> 
>  
> 
> cherish your inadequacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short and straight to the point, purely for characterization purposes. ong's not an asshole, he's a survivalist. in my humble opinion, what he says in this chapter coincides very well with the persona presented in produce 101: individualistic and just as desperate as any of the nu'est boys.
> 
> i never really thought of him as an asshole during what i've seen of broduce so far, either, and he grows a lot as a person through the friends he makes in there. it's a huge development to go from accusing certain trainees of "cheating" to celebrating that he'll debut together with one of them :')
> 
> but fending for yourself for a long time makes you think and do bad things. don't hate me for this portrayal of him; there's a lot of me in the way i characterize seongwoo, and this is no different.

The heat inside the recording studio is scorching hot; Seongwoo is used to the searing bright lights shining on his face, but not as much to sitting around for hours as new people ( _opponents_ , he reminds himself mechanically) fill in the remaining empty chairs in their pyramidal line-up.

Seat #2 is comfortable, he thinks, in more ways than one. He knows it may be considered pretentious of him to pick such a high place for himself right at the start, but he exudes – and owns – enough confidence to not come across as an empty promise of talent.

( _you have to be ambitious, oppa_ , he remembers Yoojung’s advice; she may be much younger than him, but it does not stop him from wanting to follow her footsteps)

It is not #1, and he would never dare to; _never bite more than you can chew, oppa_ , Doyeon’s voice echoes in his mind, the saying old and cliché but full of the wisdom of someone who has gone through more than he ever has and knows better than him. Seongwoo tends to respect experience.

Keywords are _tends to_.

It is easy to fall into banter with the boy next to him, Haknyeon, young and bright in front of the cameras (desperate and the kind of overbiter Seongwoo wants to avoid becoming away from them), a perfectly reasonable dongsaeng that laughs at his jokes and easily enters _hyung zone_ from the sheer hours they spend side by side, everyone else either too shy or too far away to really respond to Seongwoo’s endless chatter. He’s a good boy, Seongwoo reasons, the kind of person he should feel threatened by from his looks alone, any potential talent still a mystery until the arrival of the judges.

Seongwoo is careful around the boy, the kind of careful years of acting training taught him to be even when anxiety threatens to make his heart burst out of his chest. He can do _funny_ , he can do _witty_ , he can even come off as the epitome of tranquility; there has been a storm inside him from the very first day he decided to join the show, but no one other than himself was allowed to know that, not even his lovely younger sunbaenims, no matter how much useful advice they would offer.

 _Your goddamned pride will be your downfall_ , an annoying voice, not Doyeon’s nor Yoojung’s but entirely his own, likes to remind him in his head, but it is the kind of voice he only really listens to in the safety of solitude.

Being one of the first to come in, he watches the others walk into the studio in a mix of borderline boredom and suspicion, all too well-concealed in his apparent good-naturedness and occasional quips. Seongwoo reacts accordingly to strong competitors like Samuel and the Brand New Music boys, responds accordingly to Donghan’s equally quippy challenge ( _why didn’t you sit in the first place and chose second instead?_ ), acts accordingly impressed by those who had already debuted yet were taking a second chance when many others like him were there on a last, desperate push for their debut.

He may act impressed, but he feels no less bitter. Wasn’t this a chance for newcomers who hadn’t debuted, yet?

(there is no advice from Doyeon or Yoojung on how to face sunbaenims-turned-trainees, not really; he supposes he should let them be, but there is too much threat in their names and labels to Seongwoo feel any willing to _like_ them)

Pledis comes in and the change in the atmosphere becomes evident in the way everyone else hastily stands up to greet them, crowd divided between overly enthusiastic to half-hearted, weary bows; the four boys say nothing as they find their place in their lower rows, everything in their stances screaming some humility unbefitting on them. Seongwoo pays attention until he no longer does, opting instead to have fun with how Haknyeon visibly swallows when the _rough one_ (Dongho, he will learn later) makes eye contact with him.

The rest of the entrances pass by like a blur, hunger and boredom being the strongest contenders for Seongwoo’s attention; he is grateful Haknyeon talks almost as much as him to keep him distracted, but even that becomes a little overwhelming as every vacant chair steadily becomes occupied.

Their evaluations come next; pretending to have fun in the right moments and to feel bad for the other trainees comes easily to Seongwoo. He knows what he wants to show on camera, he has done his research (pretending to care about the other trainees on a personal level is one thing; knowing every single detail the internet and his trainers can provide him about as many people as he can is another), and knowing that his evaluation is the third or fourth after Pledis’ leaves a strange sense of dread in his stomach.

He cannot help but hope for the worst; whether it makes him a horrible person or not is not really up for debate in his mind, not when it is the only fully truthful companion Seongwoo will have in the long run. Not even dance instructor Kahi’s cracking voice as she talks to them sparks any empathy in him. They know what they came for.

(their performance is underwhelming and heavy, full of a different flavor of desperation than the one Seongwoo is used to; there is no room for mercy)

Seongwoo’s jaw is set through the whole performance, watching for mistakes, mouth coming unhinged at their failure to reach a high note ( _their mistake_ , he thinks, _is to still act as a unit_ ), lips pressing into a thin line when their rank is announced.

Haknyeon’s face falls accordingly as only one of them makes it to rank C and the rest of the group is put into the D rank. Seongwoo shrugs off any pity he might feel, sinking back into his seat. His turn is coming very soon.

“The judges were kinda harsh on them”, the younger says, mostly to himself, looking crestfallen; Seongwoo thinks he might be considering his own chances. “That was sad to watch.”

Seongwoo shrugs again, hands pressed together, nails digging hard into his skin. “They should have prepared better, then”, he replies nonchalantly, “it’s good to know no one’s getting special treatment, at least.”

The other boy frowns but nods, deep in thought.

“Don’t you feel bad for them, though?”, Haknyeon asks in a hushed but neutral tone, all too aware that nothing they say in that room will go unrecorded.

Seongwoo is aware of that, too.

“No”, he answers simply, eyes fixed on the retracting quartet, “all the less competition for me.”

Haknyeon nods again, carefully watching him, and sensibly chooses not to comment on Seongwoo’s answer.

Seongwoo’s turn soon comes, and he shows effortlessly just what he came for, eyes scanning the crowd but never fully focusing on anyone.

(they are one and the same: _opponents_ )

No one has to know about the bathroom break he has to take after his evaluation to hyperventilate away both the glee and the sheer anxiety that threaten to make his chest explode, coming out in waves from his eyes, his mouth, the feeling anything but pleasant. There is no relief or comfort that comes afterwards; this is just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title taken from cursive's 1997 album title. once again i'm sorry for all the emo. helps set the mood but i guess it makes everyone else moody, too.


	3. i’ll be your friend (you just haven’t made me yet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> current threat level is pink
> 
>  
> 
> your destruction is within projected limits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for taking so long! i ended up writing much more than originally intended [stares @ my first chapter notes and cries over how wrong i was about this whole fic], but i really saw no way of cutting this chapter or switching points of view; it was a very minhyun chapter, i guess.
> 
> now, possible trigger warnings for this: descriptions of a long-lasting panic attack. most of what was done to stop it is, uh, based off my own real life experience; your mileage may vary regarding how panic attacks work in general. i just chose the easier route to write and to relate to for me.
> 
> a few broduce dates might be off in the last chapters. i did my best to fix them and make everything as closest to the real thing as possible, but i probably missed out on a lot of stuff so please don't expect this to follow a perfect timeline, i guess? i also left out a few controversies (re:dorming conditions) for the sake of making things happen more smoothly, i guess? and there's a lot of first C class love in this, i know, but i l*ve most of them so much :'(
> 
> anyway stop babbling andie let people READ!!! i hope you enjoy this :^)

Their endless hours of practice before their ranking evaluation go to complete waste the moment Jonghyun sees Kahi (and proceeds to avert his eyes in justified but uncalled for shame); things only spiral downwards from that moment on. Dongho refuses to meet anyone’s eyes, and the only thing that keeps Minki from walking out of that studio is Minhyun’s steady grip on his hand and his whispered empty encouragements.

_Humble, always stay humble; it gets worse before it gets better._

He is no Aron hyung, and would never be. Minki still acknowledges his attempt and squeezes his hand back, gripping at Jonghyun’s, as well.

 _Humble, humble_ , the youngest repeats, pulling both his friends’ hands closer. _We’ll try our best._

( _their best_ , under the pressure and circumstances, turns out to fall very short from their expectations, perhaps from everyone else’s expectations; no one dares to comment on Dongho’s mistake, or on Minhyun’s surprising but still disappointing higher rank)

Minhyun tries to hold himself upright, to stand tall despite Dongho’s and Minki’s fallen shoulders and slumped forms on their seats, despite Jonghyun himself looking on the verge of tears the entire time it took for the evaluations to wrap up. He feels something akin to an ache in his chest whenever he looks at their leader and finds the traces he has learned to recognize throughout the years as signs that Jonghyun is very upset but sucking it up and refusing to burden others with his own feelings.

There isn’t much Minhyun can say about that bad habit of Jonghyun’s when he knows he tends to do the same, although for different reasons and under different circumstances.

A watery glint to Dongho’s eyes catches his attention; he looks away before the elder notices him staring, too afraid of causing an actual breakdown to actually act encouraging to him. Jonghyun stares ahead, eyes fixed on the trainee that comes next, and Minhyun knows better than to bother him unless he speaks first. Minki has a scowl set on his lips, distaste evident, but something Minhyun figures is respect for Dongho’s and Jonghyun’s pain stops him from making any snide comments until things die down, even though he looks like he really wants to talk back at all the other trainees whispering behind their backs.

He needs a distraction.

xxx

Minhyun was never one for dwelling on things that don’t, yet, belong to his world – to _their_ world, he remembers, because Hwang Minhyun does not exist solely on his own, although he has been slowly learning how to live without Aron on occasion (they will need to do that in order to survive, for now). There is a line neither of them cross outside their dorm, not even when given the opportunity, because giving in to distraction would mean a lack of commitment they could not afford to show, not under their circumstances, not in their situation.

They work, they eat, they practice, they study – despite their extra time to do so, most of their grades are mediocre; it takes motivation and a certain mindset in order to do better at something they should _excel_ _at_ , by now –, they play games on occasion, they sleep when compelled to do so. Lately, sleep finds Minhyun easily, whereas Dongho spends more and more time awake overworking himself into near exhaustion. There is no space for people other than their families and closer labelmates, and none of them feel the need to change that.

Not yet, not before they give their all; they are in that studio for a reason.

Not dwelling on what they don’t have, however, never meant that Minhyun did not know himself well enough; he just preferred not to give it much thought, as tempting as it was at times to allow his mind to wander into wishful thinking, fully aware his musings would never come to fruition – not because of the group’s work ethics, but because when it came to Minhyun, it was not a matter of _when_ , but a matter of _who_.

It was simple, yet it was the painful sort of simple, the sort of simple that meant a single public life and a private life full of secrets – maybe even kept from his own family, for that matter. They could _not_ (yet), and it felt safe for Minhyun because he probably would never.

Minhyun likes simple and safe; the lack of _simple and safe_ in pretty much the rest of his life for the past five years has made him cherish that which others would have considered a prison.

It’s not a prison if there is nothing outside that makes you want to escape.

(except there is, sometimes, and oh, how Minhyun _hates_ it when he finds one)

Ong – yes, _Ong_ , they made sure to grill that into everyone’s brains by repeating the name as many times as they could – Seongwoo, who sat at the second place seat like he owned it throughout the evaluations, was much more good-looking up close than in the blurry distant view Minhyun had of him when they walked into the studio, the kind of good-looking that awakened bitterness and the worst sort of butterflies in Minhyun’s stomach; he could only hope his discomfort would go unnoticed by his groupmates.

Like much of his wishful thinking, it is not much more than just that – wishful.

“Hwang Minhyun, are you _ogling_ the Hong guy?”, Minki asks incredulously under his breath just as one of the moving cameras nearly startles Jonghyun out of his seat when it focuses on them.

“It’s _Ong_ , Minki, they just said it”, Minhyun hastily corrects him, not taking his eyes off the screen (which still showed the _Ong guy’s_ face up close in very flattering angles, in Minhyun’s humble opinion), not even when Minki pulls hard at his (very red) ears to get his attention. “He’s very handsome”, he continues, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. It does not convince any of the other three.

Jonghyun and Dongho raise an eyebrow at him; Minhyun almost hates it that they can read each other like an open book, by now, almost hates it that their bond is so strong they have trusted each other with their darkest, dirtiest secrets, almost hates it that they know the exact meaning of _simple and safe_ , now.

“ _He’s very handsome_ ”, Minki mocks him in annoyance, turning to stare at the screen as well. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but _is this the right place for that_?”

“Of course it’s not”, Minhyun mutters back, knitting his eyebrows together in what could almost be perceived as annoyance; he doesn’t really feel annoyed at Minki, though. He doesn’t feel much, as usual, but Seongwoo has a nice voice and dances well enough – the much needed distraction he could afford for a few minutes.

 _It’s not like he’ll even look our way_ , he thinks, feeling his heart rate speed up at the mere idea; he almost laughs at how he responds to that thought much more earnestly than he had responded to anything at all that past month. _Definitely the wrong time and place for that_.

Minki rolls his eyes. “Then stop looking.”

That finally gets a chuckle out of Jonghyun. “Let him look if he wants, Minki, don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not!”

“You only want Minhyunie’s eyes on you?”

“Shut up—”

Minhyun’s smile comes unprompted at their bickering; he tries to think of it as a sign of a change for the better.

Seongwoo never looks their way.

(it is simultaneously a relief and somewhat frustrating for Minhyun)

 _Simple and safe_ , he repeats to himself, reaching out for the comforting warmth of Minki’s hand; the younger promptly complies, also reaching out for Jonghyun’s, who in turn sends a look at Dongho, but Dongho is far gone, lost in his own thoughts.

Minhyun hopes to find the irony of coming to a survival show to save their group only to watch their sense of unity slowly crumble under the pressure any funny; he doesn’t think he will.

xxx

There is nothing intrinsically _bad_ about Rank C (good kids, nice yellow jumpers, the comfort of being _average_ ), and although Minhyun thinks it’s not really fair that he was the only one with a slightly better rank – they _all_ did badly, he refuses to think otherwise –, he wants to aim higher. Learning a new song and choreography in three days should come as no challenge for him, nor for the other three, really, and maybe his current state of what he calls _apathy_ for a lack of a better name is what will push him up the ranks. Dongho’s sadness and Minki’s anger do them no good, Minhyun realized long ago; Jonghyun’s helplessness hinders his every effort.

Minhyun has more than enough reasons to want to resent his rank, he realizes; helping Jonghyun out of his slump would be much less of a herculean effort had he been ranked along with his group.

( _you guys may be going as a group of trainees from the same company_ , Nayoung told them the week before, her jaw set and voice firm, _but this is an individual competition. Keep that in mind._ )

The training camp rooms are cozy, despite the narrow bunks and long shower lines. Minhyun lets the younger ones shower first, slowly getting acquainted with some of his rank mates – Jinyoung, the grim boy who kept his head down during his evaluation, still looking ashamed that he did so; Hyunwoo, with his high cheekbones and genuinely friendly manners; Eunki, a kind-eyed boy Minhyun is sure he would have fallen for in another life; Kenta, the only boy his age who is more receptive to him regardless of his group.

There are others around, some friendlier, some watching him warily like he could attack one of them at any given moment; no one can blame them for their resentment towards already-debuted trainees.

Minhyun wishes he could tell them he doesn’t want to be there, either. As it is, he can only do his best to treat them kindly.

When everyone is done getting ready to sleep, they waste no time in turning the lights off. There isn’t much time left to rest before their training starts.

Sleep finds Minhyun easily, despite the uncomfortable mattress and someone’s snores; he can’t quite tell who it is in the dark, nor does he want to stick a name and face to the noise.

(the same recurring dream he has had for the past few months visits him that night; he watches a dark-haired boy from afar, convinced that that boy is Jonghyun. The moment said boy turns around, however, Minhyun realizes he had really been watching himself)

xxx

“You look like shit”, is how Minki greets him in the studio the next morning, as they gather according to their respective ranks and Minhyun _happens_ to stand in front of his three groupmates, all clad in the green sweaters he knows he should be wearing, as well. “Did you even sleep last night?”

“You mean morning?”, Dongho retorts and it feels like Minhyun is hearing him for the first time in days. “I thought they wouldn’t even let us sleep after the evaluations, it’s a wonder we got any rest at all.”

Minki shrugs. “Well, I guess we gotta look healthy and well-rested for recordings, right?” He looks at Minhyun again and frowns. “You look none of those things.”

It is Minhyun’s turn to shrug. “I’m sorry?”

Minki rolls his eyes, but lets him go; standing by his right side, Jonghyun sends Minhyun an apologetic look, but says nothing.

He tries not to think too much about the evident worry in Minki’s blunt words, nor about why he _does_ feel exhausted despite making use of the hours of sleep they had been granted. Instead, Minhyun chooses to watch the other trainees enter, eyes focusing for a little too long on the A ranked ones; he tries to fool himself into thinking he is not looking for anyone in particular, and when that does not work, he tells himself he is looking for Samuel. He misses Samuel. He was a good kid. The dark-haired man with the shapely jawline and the button nose he is currently staring intently at is not Samuel.

Thankfully, Seokhoon calls their attention before Minhyun can further embarrass himself.

xxx

At night, while they write on their journals, they share stories.

“There’s this bathroom”, Jihoon starts, voice low so as to not disturb Justin, who dozed off by his side, “on the second floor of the practice building, that’s out of order. Has been for a while, maybe even since the time they recorded the first season.”

“Is it the guys or the girls’ bathroom, though?”, Hyunwoo asks, looking up from his bunk.

Jihoon frowns in thought. “I think both are”, he replies, crossing something out on his journal. “No one goes down their corridor. The staff usually tells us to just use the bathroom on our floor, so I never really checked it out.”

“There aren’t any practice rooms on the second floor, though”, says Kenta, after a while. “It could be the reason they didn’t bother to fix them yet.”

“Maybe”, Jihoon concedes. “But it’s weird, isn’t it? They have more than enough money to fix them, why haven’t they, yet?”

Yongbin cuts to the chase. “Do you think they could be haunted?“

“We shouldn’t be talking about this so late at night”, Eunki weakly protests, but it goes unheard; Jihoon smiles mischievously at them.

“Rumor has it that someone died inside one of the stalls.” Someone mutters _are you serious_ incredulously, but Jihoon pretends not to listen. “And if you listen closely to the door, you can hear a person crying inside.”

Eunki groans; Hyunwoo does not quite buy the story, yet. “How do people know that if no one goes near those bathrooms?”, he asks, fully aware that he might be taking the whole thing more seriously than intended.

Jihoon puts his journal down and shrugs. “Like I said, it’s a rumor. I’d like to check it out one day, though.”

Someone protests again that it is _too late for this kind of story_ , and Jihoon laughs but says nothing else about it. Minhyun is thankful they quiet down once the story is over, and turns around on his bunk to sleep the moment it no longer feels rude to do so.

xxx

The song – lyrics and choreography altogether – is much harder than Minhyun (and many, _many_ other trainees) had initially deemed it to be.

 On their second day of training, Minhyun finds himself still in rank C’s practice room, skin itching from the sweat, stomach empty and about two hours of sleep before waking up again to practice some more until their morning lesson started. He had fallen behind, something he had brought upon himself the moment he decided to help the ones that struggled the most with the choreography, teaching them how to keep their voices stable during the hardest parts and even helping the rappers reach higher notes during their free practice hours. They ended up coming back late to their dorms, losing more sleep in favor of showering and writing on their journals (something Minhyun would rather not do, but that wasn’t really _optional_ ).

There is little time left before re-evaluation comes; a grim reminder of what looms ahead comes in the form of several breakdowns experienced by the boys on the span of the first half of their free practice afternoon. Insoo, elected leader of their class for a reason, does his best to keep everyone more or less calm, but it has little effect on the younger ones, and in no time Minhyun finds himself with an armful of a sulking Jinyoung, who had tried to cope with his own struggles alone until that very moment.

Justin comes next the moment Jinyoung collects himself and resumes his practice, trying his best to stare back at the mirror instead of the floor; by the time Eunki kindly offers to help Justin out and _off_ of Minhyun, everyone else had started to practice together.

The noise is overwhelming.

Minhyun was vaguely aware that he should have slept and eaten better in order to endure the day, but it is only when the music threatens to make his heart rip a hole out of his chest that he realizes that _maybe_ he had been overworking himself.

One of the boys makes a mistake and screams in frustration; another one laughs and tries to console him, and once their loud laughter fills Minhyun’s ears, he knows there is no way he can stay in that room any longer.

He gets up from where he was leaning against the mirror, grabbing his phone and earphones, and makes for the door.

Insoo’s voice stops him.

“Minhyun hyung, where are you going?”

Even over the music, the others hear him and pause the song, turning their heads to watch Minhyun curiously.

Minhyun looks down, refusing to meet their eyes. He needs to get out.

“Bathroom”, he says, quickly (Insoo immediately blushes and utters an apology for being too overbearing, but Minhyun hears and sees none of it) as he swings the door open and almost trips on his feet.

( _Is he okay?_ , he hears Yongguk ask Kenta with genuine concern is his voice.

 _I don’t know_ , Kenta replies, sounding equally worried. _I think all he had was rice, today_.

Minhyun feels sick.

 _He’s been practicing a lot_ , Hyunwoo adds, voice hushed but somehow Minhyun still hears their whispering. _We should try to get him meat, next time_.)

He closes the door behind him and walks downstairs before his legs give in.

xxx

There are no cameras on the second floor other than security ones, and for the first time in three days Minhyun feels some sort of privacy. The corridor Jihoon had mentioned is, indeed, empty, and _out of order_ signs hang from the two doors near the end of it.

He tries opening the first door. It is locked. _I have no idea why I expected anything else_ , he thinks, sighing to himself. Inside his chest, his heart still threatens to burst.

Still, he tries for the second door, the urge to be alone and in _silence_ for once much stronger than common sense over how wrong it is to break into a non-functioning bathroom just to hide from people for a while.

The handle turns, and a distinct _click_ tells Minhyun the door is open. He reasons that it is not breaking in if the door was open from the start, and allows himself into the bathroom.

He counts four stalls, one bigger than the others on the corner, all doors closed, and looks at the row of sinks facing them, pointedly avoiding looking at his own reflection in the large mirror. From the corner of his eyes, he notices the red patches forming on his neck, around his temples, and he ducks his head down near one of the sinks not to look any further.

There is running water on the taps, Minhyun realizes after testing one by one. He washes his face and neck, trying to get rid of as much sweat as he can before he realizes that that bathroom had been out of order for so long it probably has no paper towels. _Too bad,_ he thinks, gingerly wiping his face with his also wet hands when he is done. He opens the stall closest to the door, hoping for leftover toilet paper, at best, and also, unsurprisingly, finds none.

He goes for the next. _Nothing_.

By the third stall, he hears a shrill wail from the corner of the bathroom and freezes. It comes from the largest one, still closed; a look under the door shows no visible feet, but Minhyun is unfazed. Ghost or not, they would have to share the space for a bit.

“Is”, he starts tentatively, knuckles hovering over the fourth stall door. “Is there anyone here?”

A surprised gasp, followed by heavy breathing. Minhyun knocks.

“I’m not scared of you”, Minhyun tries again, fully aware that maybe he should be.

The voice behind the door gasps again, and _speaks_.

“Please don’t kill me, mister ghost”, it begs; Minhyun knows he shouldn’t be so amused, but he is. The voice is not completely unfamiliar; maybe a trainee from the other ranks?

“I thought _you_ were the ghost”, he replies good naturedly. “May I open the door?”

A brief moment of silence follows (only the heavy breathing from behind the door can be heard; Minhyun wonders how he hadn’t paid attention to that noise before), then the voice speaks again, resolute. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Minhyun hums in acknowledgement, slightly annoyed. “You shouldn’t be here, either.” He tries again. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

Minhyun sighs, but lets the door go. “Too bad. I hope you don’t mind sharing the space, then.”

“I do”, comes the somewhat angry reply. “I got here first.”

“Too bad”, Minhyun repeats in an almost singsong tone, opting to retaliate with cheekiness instead of rudeness. “We could both get in trouble for coming here, you know.”

The voice ( _the guy_ , Minhyun corrects himself; there is no way that is not one of his fellow trainees) says nothing else, still breathing like he had run a marathon, and Minhyun lets him be before hastily wiping at his face with his sweatshirt. After inspecting the surprisingly clean bathroom, he sits on a corner and puts his left earphone on, turning on the song and opening the lyrics to look at.

He starts out low, self-aware, the presence of someone else inside that bathroom suddenly too intimidating. It was far from his plan of getting a few hours alone to recollect himself and practice some more before coming back to help the others (there were talks of staying up all night to catch up with the hardest parts of the choreography, and Minhyun intended to join them if they were going to pull through).

Alone time was never something he had _really_ needed back then, too used to having at least one or two people around for the whole day and sometimes even for the night, the five of them too used to each other’s warmth to give up on that, even when they could, during harsher nights. Being virtually alone on his rank, with none of the people he was most comfortable with around, Minhyun finds that being surrounded by strangers all the time is just as overwhelming as his new-found solitude, no matter how nice these strangers are to him.

Running to class D’s practice room for help is no option, for now.

So he sings, successfully shoving to the back of his mind whatever thought that made him feel so inadequate around the other boys and prompted him to run and hide. He sings, and even manages to forget there is another boy close by, separated by a thin door, sounding angry and scared and other things Minhyun wishes he could relate to on a deeper level, but that he no longer does, not for a long time.

When the door to the fourth stall creaks open, revealing a pink sweatshirt-clad dark-haired boy huddled on the toilet, knees pulled tightly to his chest, Minhyun thinks he should be surprised, but he isn’t. Not by his rank, at least

He pauses the song, puts his phone down, removes his earphones. When he looks at the boy’s face, he feels a sudden urge to curse fate or irony for setting him up in that situation, but he does his best to look neutral, hoping the stranger will take a while to notice the reddening of the tips of his ears.

Of course he had to run and hide in the same bathroom the _Ong_ guy was hiding, too, just as sweaty as Minhyun but a few shades paler, the signs of something Minhyun had seen happening more than once to his friends and the other trainees in his rank evident in his shaking hands and heavy breathing that now verged on sobbing.

At least now he could see where all that rudeness was coming from.

“Are you okay?”, Minhyun decides to break the silence himself when all Ong does is stare and gape at him like a dead fish. Ong (sadly, Minhyun’s mind is unable to provide him his first name, a good sign that maybe he is _not_ as interested in him) nearly jumps out of the toilet at that, but quickly catches himself, feet reaching the floor as he finally lets go of his knees.

“Sure I am. Everything’s fine. _Peachy._ You’re really not a ghost”, he rambles, wiping his hands on his pants. He squints as he stares at Minhyun, eyes glinting with recognition once he is done looking. “Ah, you are…”, he trails off, then wrings his hands on his lap, “from Nu’est… Pledis, uh. One of the Pledis Nu’est guys, right? The… _not so bad_ one.”

His bluntness makes Minhyun briefly scrunch up his nose in slight distaste, but he soon decides against being hostile and schools his expression back into neutrality. “Yeah. Pledis Nu’est guy. I’d rather you called me Minhyun, though.” _I don’t think you’re really interested doing so, though,_ his mind supplies him somewhat bitterly. “And you’re the Ong guy, right?”

 _Ong guy_ ’s face lights up into a small smile immediately, despite his still heaving chest and white knuckles from holding on too tightly to his own fingers. Something stirs in Minhyun’s chest before he cringes inwardly for almost melting at a simple smile. “You got that right! Usually takes people some three or four attempts before they do. It’s Seongwoo, by the way”, he pauses before he babbles on, “I’m not sure about your age, but—”

“We are same-aged”, Minhyun helpfully supplies him one second before ducking his head in embarrassment for knowing that when Seongwoo himself barely knew his name.

“Oh,” Seongwoo replies, face falling a little, unsure of what to say next. “Anyway, uh”, he adds before the silence that hangs in the air between them gets too awkward, “what brings you to my humble abode?”

When Minhyun only raises an eyebrow at him, he gingerly reaches up to scratch at the back of his head, a little too aggressively; Minhyun vaguely worries about rashes on the other boy’s neck, but still says nothing.

“I mean, I clearly don’t live here, uh”, Seongwoo tries to explain. “I just thought it would be a funny conversation starter, but. You’re not laughing.”

Minhyun frowns, then slowly lifts himself off the floor; Seongwoo hits his head on the wall when he unconsciously recoils, muttering an _ow_ and rubbing at his head. “You’re crying”, he says, carefully.

Seongwoo touches his own face, as if refusing to believe Minhyun’s words, then stares at the now wet tips of his fingers. “I’m sweating”, he corrects Minhyun, even as his voice wavers towards the end.

“From your _eyes_?”, Minhyun questions him, trying not to sound too teasing; he knows how things get when someone is in that state. “I won’t tell anyone”, he adds hastily, “we shouldn’t even be here.”

Seongwoo’s expression turns bitter. “ _You_ shouldn’t be here. This was my hiding place.”

Minhyun shrugs. “We can’t have it all, now, can we?”

“Are you really gonna practice in here? You could do that literally anywhere _else_.”

They stare at each other, Seongwoo defiant, Minhyun expressionless; as expected, Seongwoo falters first, looking away with a shudder and gripping at his own arms. Minhyun feels the word _tantrum_ is far from being adequate to what is really going on with the other boy; still, he can’t help but think that when Seongwoo huffs in annoyance.

He opts for sincerity, since Seongwoo wouldn’t grant him any.

“I’m not feeling well”, he tells him earnestly. “I needed a quiet place, and this was all I could think of. I won’t bother you if you won’t bother me.”

Seongwoo stares at him again, as if sizing him up, eyebrows knitted in some sort of angry defiance. It takes a while before he finally relents. “ _Fine_. Don’t come any closer, though.”

Minhyun smiles despite himself; it’s not a pleasant one. “Wasn’t planning to.”

xxx

The kind of disappointment that comes when someone you find attractive turns out to have a terrible personality is something new to Minhyun; granted, Seongwoo is still clearly not in his right mind, despite refusing any offers for help, and Minhyun is still willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if they ever talk again under normal circumstances.

In the thirty minutes since they fell into awkward but not completely uncomfortable silence, Minhyun took to dance practice, placing his phone in front of the sinks and trying to look at his movements in the mirror, even though it would only show half of his body. Seongwoo had slid down the toilet lid to the floor and dragged himself outside the stall at one point, sitting not too far behind Minhyun and pretending not to watch his dancing.

(Minhyun really hopes he’s not paying attention, though; his footwork had been _terrible_ since that morning, earning him a light scolding from Kahi, of all people, for wasting all the progress he had made the day before)

Somewhere through his fourth attempt and right before the hardest break, Minhyun’s legs threaten to give out. He stops before they do, staring blankly at the video still playing on his phone, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself.

He reminds himself he’s not alone; Seongwoo shouldn’t have the privilege of watching him fall. That thought alone – and a hand discreetly gripping tightly to the marble of the sink while he casually pretends to pause the video – is enough to keep him upright.

Had Jonghyun been there, Minhyun thinks, it would have taken him only a few encouraging words to continue from where he stopped, even if his legs ended up really giving out at the end. He owed Jonghyun as much; he was probably living off rice and water, much like him.

He wonders if they are doing as badly as he is, perfectly capable of memorizing and reaching the right notes in the lyrics and of picking the choreography at a fast pace, but too unfocused, too disconnected to really show what they came for.

Jonghyun is not there; none of the others are. All he has is the sound of Seongwoo’s still heavy breathing denouncing his presence behind him, his reflection on the mirror blurry to Minhyun’s sore eyes.

“You dance like you’re trying to join them”, Seongwoo breaks the silence, venom dripping from his voice. “On rank D. That fucking sucked.”

Minhyun wonders how Seongwoo can multitask having a panic attack and taunting random trainees when he can barely convey one feeling at a time, himself.

“Do you really think you’re in any condition to pick a fight, Seongwoo?”, he asks as softly as he can, refusing to stoop to the other boy’s level.

Seongwoo bites his lip, frowning deeply. “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply. I told you, I’m great. I just had to… sit down for a bit.”

“We’ve been here for almost an hour”, Minhyun points out, still looking at Seongwoo’s reflection rather than directly at him, “and you haven’t stopped crying yet.”

“I’m _sweating_ ”, Seongwoo groans, quickly rubbing his eyes with his sleeves. “Just sweating. Maybe I had a fever or something, but now I’m _fine_.”

Minhyun sighs, tired of Seongwoo’s bravado that borders on pathetic, by now. “Look, I’m not gonna judge you. I don’t think I’m in any condition to, anyway.” He turns around, lets himself slide down to the floor too, his legs shaking from exertion. “The faster you tell me what’s going on with you, the faster I can help you get out of here. I bet you have practice to do, as well.”

Seongwoo shakes his head, looking as angry as he possibly can in his state. “This can’t be happening”, he mumbles before locking eyes with Minhyun again. “What makes you think I’m gonna open up to a total stranger? You could use this to fuck me over if you wanted.”

His hurtful words should stir something in Minhyun, make him angry, too, as they are meant to. Minhyun is not surprised when all he feels is a slight pang to his chest, something between offense and compassion that compels him to persist. “You should give people more credit. Not everyone in here is out for your head, you know.”

The other boy scowls, but resigns himself to sniffling instead of coming up with a witty or aggressive retort; Minhyun would count that as a small victory had Seongwoo’s hands not started to shake harder.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to”, Minhyun insists, slowly lifting himself to his knees; when Seongwoo doesn’t move or back off, he slowly starts inching closer. “Just… tell me what you’re feeling, exactly. I could help you out, or take you to the nursery—"

“ _Don’t_ ”, Seongwoo warns him, still unmoving. “I can—I can sort this out on my own, if they find out I’m—”

“Don’t worry”, Minhyun cuts off his line of thought before he spirals further into his panic. “I can help you out here, then. What are you—”

He tentatively reaches out with one hand, only for Seongwoo to hastily slap it away. “Why the fuck are you being nice to me?”

Minhyun shakes his head, clutching at the arm Seongwoo had hit; the other boy has the decency to look apologetic after he realizes what he had just done. “I’m not being _nice_ to you. it’s called ‘being a decent human being’.”

 _Maybe you should give it a try one of these days_ , he feels tempted to add, but something tells him that this is _not_ exactly how Seongwoo acts on better days.

He has no time to say anything else; Seongwoo’s panic seems to peak again, and his breathing becomes shallower and hurried, a clear sign of his agitation. He refuses to look at Minhyun, but Minhyun still kneels down in front of him, short of letting their legs touch but still avoiding doing so.

“Seongwoo, please listen to me.”

Seongwoo nods, closing his eyes in a frown.

“I’m going to help you out, now. We’ll start by reminding you to breathe properly again, alright?”

He nods again, letting out a strangled groan that Minhyun figures is an attempt of protest.

“You’re going to inhale now. I’ll count to three and then you can exhale, okay?”

“This can’t be happening”, Seongwoo repeats, then nods once more.

“Okay, this isn’t happening”, Minhyun concedes. “We’ll pretend not to know each other the moment we leave this bathroom, and I promise I’ll never tell anyone what I saw here. Now listen to me, will you?”

Another grunt. Minhyun takes it as a yes.

“Inhale.”

 _One, two, three._ Seongwoo exhales after Minhyun stops counting. Minhyun waits a beat, two beats, starts again.

For a moment, he sees Minki in front of him, hiding in a bathroom stall far from their practice room, tear tracks staining his face and clasping tightly at his hands as they do breathing exercises together until Minki calms down and lets his head fall against Minhyun’s chest. He finds his hands reaching out for Seongwoo’s hair halfway through their countdown and hastily retreats, focusing back on their exercise.

Seongwoo exhales and his trembling slowly subdues.

xxx

“This feels weird”, Seongwoo comments after a moment of silence, slightly shifting to adjust his head on Minhyun’s lap. “Very awkward.”

Minhyun hums and shakes his head. “I won’t hold this against you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” His hand hovers over the other boy’s head, fingers twitching at the prospect of carding through his hair; he ultimately decides against it and lands it lightly on Seongwoo’s shoulder. “Are you uncomfortable?”

Seongwoo grunts noncommittally and finally stops moving. “I’m lying down on a bathroom floor. Not the most comfortable place, but… if you’re asking about my _pillow_ …” He hesitates, then looks up, searching for Minhyun’s eyes only to look away when he meets them, looking shy for a change. “This is alright, I guess.”

“Sorry about the floor”, Minhyun says, trying not to move his body until Seongwoo fully settles down. “I usually take Mi—my friend to a couch before having him lie down when this happens to him, but I think we’ll have to do with this.”

“’S alright”, Seongwoo repeats before he turns to his side again, facing the sinks in front of them. He closes his eyes and focuses again on evening his breath out. Minhyun smiles, quietly berating himself for feeling this giddy for being able to somehow help Seongwoo out. _I’d do this for anyone_ , he tells himself, even as he allows himself to laugh when Seongwoo grumbles _you can pet my hair if you want_. The invitation was obviously made in jest, as Seongwoo’s taunting usually is taken for, but it did not stop Minhyun from removing his hand off Seongwoo’s shoulder to thread carefully through his locks once, twice, sheepishly removing it the moment the other boy twitches in surprise.

“Sorry”, he mumbles in embarrassment, laughing at himself to conceal his own mortification.

A moment of silence follows, in which Seongwoo stays absolutely still on his lap before he relaxes again. “Well, we’ve already settled that this isn’t really happening”, Seongwoo reasons, lifting a hand to search blindly for Minhyun’s behind him, “and that felt… nice.”

Minhyun’s hand meets him halfway; the elder smiles freely, now, aware that Seongwoo cannot see him. “I can do that again if you want, then”, he offers, hoping his tone is neutral and not betraying his calm façade. Seongwoo hums in agreement, eyes still closed and shakiness subdued. He pulls at Minhyun’s hand until it lands on top of his head, fingers immediately reaching for the younger’s forehead to brush his wet fringe away from his eyes before he resumes petting him.

(“now this”, Seongwoo speaks up slurredly long after Minhyun was convinced he’d already drifted to sleep, “ _this_ is being nice. You’re being nice to me.”

“Do you want me to stop?”, Minhyun asks, hand stilling on Seongwoo’s head.

“Not at all”, comes Seongwoo’s hasty response. “But this never happened.”

Minhyun nods in agreement, laughing softly. “This never happened.”)

xxx

When Minhyun goes back to the practice room, he receives a very concerned scolding from Insoo; Hyunwoo, Kenta, and even _Eunki_ join in on the scolding, and as guilty as he feels about having disappeared on them for over two hours, Minhyun can’t help but smile at them, even as he receives bone-crushing worried hugs from the dongsaengs (he deserves that punishment, really) after a heartfelt apology.

His legs still feel weak and not even the rice and meat Eunki shoves on his lap with a glint of mischievousness to his eyes (Minhyun almost wants to know what they pulled to get their hands on that much meat) are enough to make him stand properly again. He decides to practice singing for the rest of the night, helping the ones who chose to stay up late out from his spot on the floor.

xxx

The outcome is not really unexpected to Minhyun, too exhausted to stand upright for too long, but holding on so as to not worry the others. Insoo, elected their leader for a reason, is the first to notice him faltering, and he subtly slides a hand to his waist to offer support as they climb the stairs to their practice room to record their re-evaluations. It’s discreet enough that no one notices what’s going on other than plain friendliness.

Everyone is exhausted; it’s easy enough to tell from their faces alone, from their slumped shoulders as they sit down and wait for their turns. They still look up expectantly at Minhyun when he gets up to record, some with gratefulness in their eyes, others sternly but still gentle. It doesn’t take much for a group of strangers to grow closer after a collective struggle.

He fails; somewhere in the pile of boys huddled close to watch him, Insoo breaks down in tears watching as Minhyun’s legs refuse to work, as his voice, raw and tired from practice, breaks at parts he had easily sang before. The younger ones look down, unable to keep on watching; some try to cheer him on, but falter as the performance goes on and Minhyun fails to show what he came for. They know the reason, and it makes things no less painful.

They greet him back into his seat with hugs and comforting pats; “It’s okay”, Minhyun tells them, then adds “I’m sorry” to Insoo, gently patting his shoulder in a quiet plea for him not to cry. “It’s okay”, he repeats, trying to convince himself, too.

“It’s not”, Kenta replies bitterly under his breath, quickly reaching up to squeeze Minhyun’s hand. He takes it as the form of comfort it is, and says nothing else for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title taken from bright eyes - i'll be your friend. yes more emo but THIS ONE was picked on a poll, okay.


	4. i sing it strong, but never proud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> current threat level is brown
> 
>  
> 
> your cynicism is useless by itself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two notes and a desperate appeal.
> 
> 1\. i'm so, so sorry i keep delaying my updates. this fic kind of got out of control in the last 2 chapters so it's longer than it's supposed to be and also. a bit more emotionally draining, as well. please be patient: chapter 6 is going to be long and a bit exhausting to write, but i promise i'll have it ready before midterms kick my sad butt.  
> 2\. i've said this before but at this point i'm kind of giving up on accuracy; this is fic, not a documentary, so some days might be off/the order of how things happened might be a bit skewed and i would apologize but i'm just really tired now. also quick warning but one of them will get briefly involved with another dude but said dude is more of a plot device than an actual romantic interest, so i'm not tagging ships out of principle+it's nothing serious or deep
> 
> an appeal, now:  
> dear writers,  
> if you're going to write fic that somehow involves onghwang but has no onghwang as endgame at all, i beg you: do **not** tag onghwang in your fic. add it to the tags as a "side ship" or "mentioned" or anything like that, but please, don't clog the actual tag with fic that doesn't belong in it. this goes to every ship, i guess, but it's been particularly annoying to see in this tag, really.  
>  thanks.

“Where have you been?”, Taehyun asks the moment Seongwoo sets foot in the class A practice room; he looks concerned and stern, a look Seongwoo has seen more than once on the elder when watching the youngest ones practice. “I was looking for you.”

 _Oh_ , Seongwoo holds back from speaking out loud, watching everyone else’s faces as their attention turned to the two of them. He sees exhaustion, but not much of the concern Taehyun is showing, not even on Sungwoon, who stopped mid-choreo practice to look at them, as well. “Bathroom”, he chooses to answer, then, refraining from wincing when Taehyun’s frown turns into a scowl, ready to call him out on his lie.

(not exactly, a _lie_ , he thinks, because he really was in a bathroom. Just not in the ones he’s almost sure Taehyun checked while looking for him)

Taehyun, however, as knowing of his lie as he looks, decides to make no comment. “Bathroom. Sure”, he deadpans before turning back to the mirrors. “You better get your ass in here and make up for the practice time you lost, then.”

It takes a few moments for Seongwoo to register that Taehyun didn’t put up a fight, but instead invited him to resume practice; it takes him even longer to decide whether he should be grateful or suspicious of the elder’s actions, but once his feet start working again he gingerly makes his way to the spot beside Taehyun. When the song starts, his body moves almost automatically through the parts he remembers of the choreography.

“No, you’re doing it wrong”, Taehyun interrupts him, immediately pausing the music; the others in the room once again look at them, stopping mid-movement.

Seongwoo huffs, but stops as well. “No shit”, he bites back, nervously running a hand through his hair. His heart rate starts to pick up again, and he knows it’s not out of the intensity of their practice. As miffed as he is about what just happened to him, he decides he’s not about to let Minhyun’s efforts to calm him down go to waste. “Now, if you’re done shit talking me—”

Taehyun hastily interrupts him. “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I figured out what you’re doing wrong. I can help you memorize this part of the choreo for tomorrow’s re-eval, if you want. It’s not that hard, really, Daehwi-ah was having the same problem, you know, but he managed to finish his routine without any mistakes in a couple hours.” He offers the younger a wary smile. “I bet you can make it, too, Seongwoo-ssi.”

 _Oh_.

(This time, Seongwoo says it out loud; Taehyun laughs and reaches up to ruffle his hair. He’s not entirely bothered by that action.)

“Seongwoo”, Taehyun tries again, turning to him and reaching for his arm; when Seongwoo recoils at the movement, he stops himself and lets his hand fall limp by his side. “Seongwoo. A class doesn’t mean perfection.”

 _It does for me_ , Seongwoo wants to retort, but he doesn’t, jaw clenched to the point where it almost hurts. He can’t let it happen again.

“It’s okay if you need a little help”, the elder continues, seemingly unaware of how much Seongwoo wants to scream at him. “We know you’re good—you’re _great_ at freestyle, really, you just—seem to have a little trouble picking up choreography. And it’s okay! I think we can all help each other out a little, here.”

He sends a pointed look at someone behind him, but Seongwoo isn’t really paying attention, the gears in his brain struggling to work when there’s panic rising up his spine again; he manages to cut off his intrusive thoughts with a deep breath ( _one, two, three_ , he remembers better than he wants before exhaling), then stares back at Taehyun, who watches him expectantly.

“I guess”, he hums in response, feeling his shoulders relax a little, even under the other boys’ unwavering gazes, “I’ll accept your help, then. Thanks, hyung.”

Taehyun nods and they smile at each other before resuming practice, tight and not completely comfortable. _That’s a start,_ whispers an annoying voice in Seongwoo’s head that sounds awfully like someone he’s pretending not to know.

xxx

“Did you hear that?”, Seongwoo overhears Taehyun whisper to Sungwoon in his room while he waits for his turn to shower; their new ranks had just been assigned, and Seongwoo is trying not to look too proud to keep his pink jumper. “Seems like Nu’est didn’t do so well in their reevaluation.”

“Oh?”, comes Sungwoon’s forced casual reply as he tries not to look terribly interested. “You know, I thought at least one of them would be joining us here.”

Taehyun nods, deep in thought. Seongwoo turns away and takes off his sweatshirt for an excuse to linger a little longer, not exactly sure why he wants to. “Me too. I was expecting Hwang Minhyun, at least.”

Seongwoo swallows the lump that forms on his throat at the mention; despite everything Minhyun had told him not to worry about, the idea that the other boy holds an insurmountable amount of power in the form of information over him is enough to put him on the edge.

“Rumor has it he did really badly, though”, Taehyun continues carefully, “couldn’t even dance properly in his video. It’s a wonder he didn’t plummet down straight to class F.”  
The lump on Seongwoo’s throat tightens.

Sungwoon hums. “But he did get demoted, right?”

“Yeah, to class D”, Taehyun answers, glancing quickly at Seongwoo, who has his sweatshirt tangled on his arms, now, looking a little lost. “It’s almost like he wanted to join his group”, he adds with a huff of low laughter that cracks and fades with uncertainty.

“Not everyone can be like us, I guess”, Sungwoon replies quietly, shrugging before lying down and turning to the wall on his bed, ending that conversation.

Samuel chooses that moment to enter the room, gesturing towards Seongwoo. "Bathroom's free, hyung", he announces before climbing up his bunk and plopping face-down on the mattress, hair still wet. It takes a few seconds for Seongwoo to register that it was directed at him, and when it does, it startles him into dropping his sweatshirt to the floor. Taehyun glances at him again, but thankfully decides against asking, and Seongwoo rushes to the bathroom before anyone else notices there may be something wrong with him.

He avoids dwelling on what happened that day, still too scared it might happen again at the most inopportune moment, much like it did back then. It wasn't entirely new to him, that helpless sensation that stopped him from breathing, from _functioning_ properly for indefinite amounts of time; that one, however, had been the longest one yet.

It usually happened in waves.

A question ( _what am I doing here?_ ), followed by resolute certainty ( _all this will amount to nothing_ ) that spirals down into hopelessness ( _no one will ever watch me, no one will see what i came here for_ ), followed by tears and bouts of fruitless nausea that would last only a few minutes before he made it back to the practice room to dance the night away.

Seongwoo is used to long, sleepless nights of practice. He's used to making mistakes, to starting again, to failing to hit a note one night and getting it right the next. What scared him the most – what _scares_ him the most – isn’t making mistakes. He can deal with mistakes; what weighs unbearably on his mind and shoulders is the fear of mediocrity, of not proving himself when he needs the most, of losing when he can't afford to lose.

He knows only half of these things, of course. The rest are vague assumptions of his subconscious, paired with the overwhelming despair he denies feeling since his very first day. The confidence that was supposed to be there accompanying his quick wit and nonchalant behavior dissipated under the high expectations and the perspective of never properly picking up on what everyone else seemed to be picking at ease.

All of those things led him to rushing to the bathroom, that day ( _kids and their made up horror stories,_ he thought, the night Samuel recounted the supposed death that took place within the confines of the largest stall of one of the second floor bathrooms. Seongwoo couldn't care less about a ghost, he needed somewhere to _hide_ ). He doesn't know – he doesn't ask – what brought Minhyun there, either, too absorbed in his own problems and too spiteful to care; he doesn't think he would ever care, had he not overheard Taehyun's and Sungwoon's little conversation. Good intentions and good people were two entirely different things in his mind, and he had yet to figure out if Minhyun was about the first or the latter.

His body still reacts during his shower, breath coming in short puffs and tears rolling involuntarily down his eyes; once the terror of re-evaluations is gone, however, his attacks resume to their usual length, and he manages to finish his shower before the next one after him (usually Namhyung, but he didn't keep track, this time) asks him to hurry. His eyes are red, but at this point, everyone _else's_ eyes are red, for one reason or another.

(it's usually the same reason for everyone, but they don't talk about it; hell, they barely _talk_ in class A, and Seongwoo had thought things were like this everywhere else until he stumbled upon class B on accident and saw them talking and laughing at each other.

 _maybe they have less at stake_ , Seongwoo thought; _maybe they don't care about who they’re going against, but I do_.)

Minhyun doesn't quite leave his mind until he drifts to sleep, but he tells himself it is what any decent person would think of after hearing that someone who offered help in a difficult time may _also_ have had a difficult time (and one of the reasons might have been his own breakdown that took the both of them precious training time). How long did they stay in that bathroom, again?

 _Well_ , he sighs into his pillow once the newcomer's snores fill his ears (what was his name again, _Daniel_? He certainly doesn't remember anyone else snoring before), _he chose to help me. It's not my fault, and I have no reason to feel guilty._

He doesn’t need to ask himself whether he would do the same; he does wonder, however, what does knowing the answer to that makes him.

xxx

Daniel is surprisingly easy to talk to.

Seongwoo likes to think of himself as _easy to talk to_ , as well – funny banter, good jokes, witty comments here and there –, although he does not quite consider himself _friendly_. If anything, his absolute failure to make any non-shallow connection with any of the other class A members is there to prove it. The hyungs and the younger ones intermingle easily – Sungwoon manages to be a ray of sunshine despite the heavy competitive atmosphere when one of the kids is under too much stress, and Taehyun likes to think of himself as some wise old man who offers advice to the youngsters when they’re in need.

Seongwoo is neither of those things – he’s funny, alright, and overly talkative when he shouldn’t be, but the kids seem more wary than warm towards him for his antics; Sungwoon and Taehyun have each other, so, really, why would they waste their time with someone as difficult as Seongwoo? Despite Taehyun’s help the other day, and Seongwoo overtly showing him his gratefulness after he ended his video, there isn’t much of a progress in their friendship. They keep things superficial, with light joking around and the pretense that they are closer than they seem in front of the cameras.

His first days are terribly lonely.

(the incident in the bathroom doesn’t count, he tells himself, _it never happened_ )

Daniel comes, then, worming his way into Seongwoo’s banter with bouts of genuine laughter and an excessive friendliness that would have rubbed Seongwoo the wrong way had he seen it on anyone else. That boy ( _boy_ , because he’s younger than Seongwoo, calls him _hyung_ with glee in his voice and an innocent twinkle to his eyes almost unbefitting of someone of his build), however, wears his heart on his sleeve and never seems afraid to show it to other people; it’s no wonder everyone in class A soon warms up to the likes of him and Taedong, both pure at heart and optimistic in their own ways.

It doesn’t make Seongwoo any less suspicious at the start.

( _“You should give people more credit. Not everyone in here is out for your head, you know.”_ )

(Seongwoo is aware of that, or at least suspects he should be, but that is _Minhyun’s_ pesky voice inside his head and, as far as he knows, he doesn’t know a Minhyun, nor acknowledges his advice)

It takes him many hours of forced coexistence to warm up to Daniel, but he does, unknowingly at first, then consciously, drifting towards the younger whenever they had to go somewhere as a group, practicing next to him while watching from the mirrors as Daehwi and Samuel did the same (those two, however, stuck close together in what could be defined as a _friendly rivalry_ ; Daniel, as of that moment, didn’t seem to have a single competitive bone in his body), sticking with him and his fellow MMO trainees during meal hours.

Daniel listens to him through his rambles; he’s careful not to overshare, ranting about his early training times, part-time jobs, the college life he left behind for this dream. In turn, Daniel tells him about his MMO hyungs, the dance academy he used to spend all his days on in Busan, dorm life with other trainees and even a few stories from class B.

Eventually, he relents and admits to himself: _Daniel is a friend_. It’s a bit disappointing that the first promise he made to himself was so easily broken this early into the competition, but Seongwoo supposes it’s worth the lessening of the constant ache in his chest that threatens to burst through and compel him to run to the nearest empty bathroom to _sweat it out_. Daniel is a friend, Daniel helps silence the constant screaming that goes through Seongwoo’s head, Daniel is slowly becoming Seongwoo’s anchor.

Daniel doesn’t need to know any of these things, yet.

xxx

Center position voting goes by like a blur once it catches everyone by surprise; it is one of those days that Seongwoo lets his ambitious automatic pilot take over until his tunnel vision somehow kicks in halfway through practice and nothing else matters other than putting on a performance good enough to sway the other trainees' hearts - he hates the idea of depending on them for that, still not quite warmed up to anyone in there except for Daniel, and even so he preferred to ignore the younger when he could.

Looking back at it, though, there are a few things Seongwoo remembers very well.

The first one is Daniel, taken over by his nerves, reading through his lyrics and not really putting on a show for the other trainees to see; once he made it back to his seat, Seongwoo patted his shoulder in what he deemed to be a comforting manner, emulating how Taehyun did it when he got another set of steps wrong in the Nayana choreography and screamed in frustration. He’s not a touchy person, has never been one, and being around so many touchy boys had made him uncomfortable, to an extent, at the start. Knowing it’s a common thing between friends doesn’t do much to change his opinion or how okay he is with being touched, not when he had never done the same to his own friends.

It felt _weird_ , like he had so eloquently put when talking to Minhyun on that fateful day.

(It still hadn’t happened, he repeated to himself like a broken record)

The second and third things are (older) Woojin’s and Samuel’s impressive rap and dance performances, their power and energy enough to put a smile on Seongwoo’s face; he knows he should have felt threatened, but something about watching those boys ( _boys_ , not like Daniel but in actual meaning) thrive so much on such a young age made him soften for a moment. Woojin was a different brand of shy, not the one who would rather _not_ befriend anyone, like Seongwoo, but the kind that wanted to approach people but had a lot of trouble doing so; he was naturally close to Daehwi, but he would often let the younger speak on his behalf or use him as a shield not to have to interact much with other people. Once Youngmin joined their class, however, Woojin slowly started to loosen up and look a little friendlier, especially towards the other newly-promoted trainee his age, Hyungseob.

Samuel, on the other hand, had a story that hit quite close to Seongwoo, having been a trainee for so long and losing so many opportunities of succeeding; how anyone could overlook that kind of talent was still beyond Seongwoo’s comprehension. It was easy not to forget him when looking at him was like looking at the mirror version of his younger self. A more tragic one, perhaps, but still full of similarities.

The last thing is Minhyun, and he hates it that he remembers him but has no recollection of how his own performance went, too nerve-struck to even remember the choreography he made himself or understand the notes he made about it.

He took it as a good sign that most of the other trainees looked impressed when the song finally stopped and he started breathing again.

Once everyone started clapping, he scanned the crowd a little more carefully, easily finding Minhyun’s new green jumper among the ranks. They locked eyes for a moment; Minhyun’s remained as unreadable as they were on that day in the bathroom, but this time he was the first to look away, hurriedly turning to whisper something to the boy in green by his side (the _intimidating one_ ; Seongwoo is only good with names when they matter to him), and Seongwoo allowed his gaze to wander to the boy in gray behind them who huddled closer to listen in on their conversation.

He was surprised to find him glaring back.

(the intimidating one had the same look; maybe Seongwoo should have looked away for good on the first warning)

Minhyun did not look at him anymore after that.

xxx

Rehearsal for the recording day for the actual stage of Nayana comes faster than Seongwoo expected; soon he finds himself in the middle of the moving triangular stage built for the performance, trying not to fall from their highest triangle while practicing on his assigned spot. The other ranks fill the venue soon enough, settling on their own triangles.

There are only four triangles. Seongwoo knows how it works, that only ranks A-D get to really perform the song, and rank F enters by the end of the song and briefly dances to the final chorus of _na ya na_. He prefers to avoid entering the discussion of whether that’s fair or not, and prefers not to acknowledge how privileged he is for not having to think much of it.

He worked hard. He has all the right to be in the center of the stage.

( _the others also worked hard, hyung_ , Daniel told him a few nights before, a frown etched to his face. _I don’t think it’s fair for Jisung hyung to be placed so low, he’s been training for so long_.

Seongwoo wanted to say, _maybe he didn’t work hard enough; maybe he’s just not talented_ , but he knew that would only upset the younger.

He settled for, _if he’s better than that, he’ll find a way to make a good narrative for himself._ This is all this show is about, after all, he’s well aware)

The mood becomes heavy the moment F Class comes into the venue.

Not really for A Class, too engrossed In watching how the stage works (and then too engrossed in their own bitterness over the rising center spot of the stage), but everyone else reacts from their own stages, sending concerned glances to the grey jumper-clad boys standing in a corner and warming up.

Seongwoo only notices there might be something wrong when he chances a look at Minhyun’s general vicinity (the intimidating one still hovers around him too much for Seongwoo to take too many risks) and notices him staring worriedly at an empty spot in the F Class dance formation. The intimidating one ( _Dongho hyung_ , that Woo Jinyoung guy had mentioned once) places a hand on Minhyun’s shoulder in what Seongwoo assumes to be a comforting gesture.

They pay no attention to the fact that there may be someone watching them from above (literally, in this case), and there is nothing really happening in that moment that requires the trainees’ attention, so Seongwoo keeps on staring. _It’s like looking at a train wreck,_ he tells himself when a boy in gray emerges from the waiting room and rejoins F Class, and Minhyun’s shoulders seem to slump a little (in what Seongwoo would like to assume is relief), _you can’t look away from a train wreck when you know it’s gonna happen_.

The missing trainee, he realizes, turns out to be the fourth member of their group (the _untalented one_ ; there is also, dwelling on B Class, the _not so bad one_. Seongwoo thinks he probably should choose better nicknames for them). From his spot, seated on the edge of the A Class stage and not-so-discreetly facing the D Class one, he can’t be sure, but Minki’s face looks slightly puffy and red.

An F trainee, then, actually _bursts into tears_ when he sees Minki, his wails loud enough to be heard from the A stage. Seongwoo momentarily forgets about Minhyun and Dongho, too engrossed in the disaster currently going on in F Class; he barely notices when Daniel sits by his side and nudges him, face contorted into a slightly pained grimace.

“It’s sad, isn’t it?”, the younger asks, startling Seongwoo out of his snooping. “They don’t even get a chance to stand on stage, right now.”

Seongwoo shrugs and tries to look nonchalant, but his stomach drops the moment he sees Minki rush to the wailing trainee and swoop him into his arms and the other F trainees immediately surround them, comforting each other to their best efforts. “They’ll have their chance later. It’s not really, the end, right?”

Daniel’s frown deepens a little, but he’s not looking the same way as Seongwoo, instead seemingly searching for someone among the D rank stage. “It could as well be, hyung. People won’t notice them as much as they will notice us.” He briefly looks behind him at the center part of the stage. “I mean, we’re getting so many benefits from our ranks, and they’re just… gonna show up at the end of the song and dance a little. I know this is a competition, but it doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“We worked hard to be here”, Seongwoo replies without hesitation; Minhyun now has his back turned to them, fully focused on the F Class group in front of him as he says something to the trainees by his side. They soon start clapping and shouting encouraging words to all the lower ranks.

“They worked hard, too, hyung”, Daniel says once the noise stops. Seongwoo tries to find Minki in the F Class circle to no avail. “We shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss their skills like that.”

Seongwoo chooses not to respond to Daniel’s final words; soon, his labelmate Jisung finds them sitting at the edge of the stage and moves away from the huddle at the edge of his own stage to talk to Daniel. He briefly acknowledges Seongwoo before starting his conversation with the younger, and once again Seongwoo is left to his own thoughts.

Minhyun, now alone, sits by the edge of the stage, his profile visible from Seongwoo’s position. Dongho is no longer around, practicing on his own a bit more before rehearsal for all the ranks starts. Seongwoo briefly wonders if he should say something were they to make eye contact; it would be pretty awkward to be caught staring, but observing the other man was the only way he had, for now, to try to figure him out without actually acknowledging him.

He probably already knows the answer to his question; no one seemed to know what the hell had happened to him the day he disappeared for a couple hours during practice (except, maybe, for Minhyun’s own friends, judging by the way they look at him). Had they met under different circumstances, Seongwoo thinks they would even get along, being same-aged and good-natured in their own different ways.

Maybe not as close as he and Daniel had gotten; it takes a special kind of persistence to put down Seongwoo’s walls, and he doesn’t think Minhyun would find him worth his time.

Three figures clad in gray separate from the rest of F Class somewhere through their break and make their way towards Minhyun, who promptly opens his arms despite the stage being too high for a hug to actually happen.

Seongwoo recognizes the one in the middle as Minki; the other two, however, both towering over Minki’s frame, have him drawing blanks for names.

“Don’t come down, dummy!”, he hears Minki shout at Minhyun, who in turn laughs cheerily; Seongwoo doesn’t think he has seen or heard Minhyun laugh before. “How are you doing up there?”

Minhyun’s voice is quieter, more subdued, than Minki’s; from where he stands, Seongwoo can make out only a few words. There is a smile on his face, though.

“These are”, Minki loudly announces, gesturing towards the two giants by both his sides, “my _children_.” The two boys then laugh, catching the elder in a one-armed hug sandwich. “Kwon Hyunbin and Kim Dongbin. I call them _my Binis_ , though. My _Conbinis_.”

This time, he hears Minhyun’s voice (and immediately regrets).

“You could call them your _Binions_ ”, he says, earning a slap to his ankle from Minki. The other boys burst into laughter again, delighted at their joking around.

“My _Minkinions_ ”, Minki adds as an afterthought, despite having slapped Minhyun for his own awful joke. Seongwoo no longer wants to listen, but there is something fascinating about watching Minhyun act goofy with other people, his cool and calm demeanor gone with the wind as he throws his head back in laughter, bouncing his legs in a playful attempt at kicking his friend.

It’s disconcerting, and also distracting enough for him to be caught staring by Minki.

Minki, who opens his mouth as if about to yell once they make eye contact, but ultimately decides against it, nudging Minhyun’s leg instead and moving his chin up in Seongwoo’s direction.

Minhyun looks at him and immediately looks away, startled like a deer in the headlights, ears burning a bright red that Seongwoo wishes he hadn’t noticed, because who notices little details like that in people they don’t even know?

Still, he decides he has done enough snooping around, and almost falls on his face down to the D Class stage when he tries to stand up.

Unlike the other day, this time he does catch Minhyun stealing a few glances at him a few times once rehearsal starts again, always looking away as if burnt as soon as Seongwoo stared back.

So much for pretending each other didn’t exist, Seongwoo laments.

xxx

Daniel’s words – F Class’ collective breakdown, too – stuck to Seongwoo’s mind even as they made their way back to the dorms the night before recording. Someone had gotten hurt near the end of the rehearsal, foot caught between the moving stages, and they decided to end practice earlier than expected. It’s a lot to wrap his head around, not having been near the lower-ranked trainees since the beginning – he had even forgotten about Haknyeon, the first person he talked to, lost among the F crowd.

It doesn’t lessen his ambition, feeling bad for the lower ranks; he resents not getting center position as much as any other A Class trainee, no matter how happy they tried to look for Daehwi (Samuel never did, and Seongwoo had to give it to him for his honesty). He still wants to be ranked among the top 11 trainees once voting starts, and he still wants to get as much attention and screen time as he can attract.

Yet, the weight of actually witnessing how the lower ranks react to the roles imposed on them, to a ruthless and possibly imperfect system that calculates their skills and tells them what they amount to, _that_ actually gnaws at him for a while.

Trying to imagine how different things would have been if his own rank had been different disturbs his sleep to the point that he couldn’t even bear to stay in bed.

A walk downstairs to the kitchen for some water (his own bottle left empty in his room) brings Seongwoo to bump straight into the person he wanted to see the least, still embarrassed over his actions that day.

Why did A Class have to share the dorm with D Class, of all classes?

“Oh”, is all Minhyun says when their eyes meet in the kitchen doorway, way too close for comfort, but neither of them were watching where they were going, so Seongwoo feels they deserve that punishment. “Ong Seongwoo, right?”

Seongwoo frowns, stepping back when Minhyun does not (he looks sleepy enough not to realize how close they actually were; Seongwoo is not going to hold it against him). “You don’t have to pretend you don’t know who I am when—when we’re alone.”

Minhyun shrugs, slowly running a hand through his hair. Seongwoo fights the sudden urge to smoothen the bird’s nest forming on the left side of his head. “Thought you didn’t want to remember you knew me. You made that clear enough before.”

“And I don’t”, the younger replies earnestly, a little frustrated, “but I guess—ah, you have a point.”

Minhyun smiles a small, tired smile, and allows the silence between them to stretch for a while. Seongwoo swiftly brushes past him to enter the kitchen and pour himself a cup of water. “Can’t sleep or are you just thirsty?”, he asks, leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms in front of his chest, rubbing his hands on his bare arms.

Seongwoo shrugs, figures the incident from earlier has been successfully forgotten, decides not to be rude. “Both. A bit of both. You?”

“Thirsty. I’d really like to go back to bed now”, Minhyun replies, finishing his sentence with a yawn that he barely bothers to hide behind his hand. It’s kind of cute, Seongwoo thinks, except he saves words like _cute_ and _adorable_ for girls and younger boys; Minhyun does not qualify.

“What are you waiting for, then?”, Seongwoo asks before downing his water in a single gulp.

Minhyun moves away from the doorway, struggling a little to stand upright. “Just checking on you. You seemed upset during rehearsal.”

Seongwoo’s mouth hangs open against his will; he carefully leaves his cup on top of the sink, unsure whether to feel annoyed or… or anything _else_ about Minhyun’s words. “I’m fine”, he says, a little tense. “ _Peachy_.”

It’s partially true; he managed to avoid giving himself a panic attack over things that hadn’t happened and only felt a little on the edge, enough to be rendered unable to sleep for a while. It’s still better than when Minhyun had first found him.

“I’m glad”, Minhyun whispers sleepily after humming in consideration of Seongwoo’s answer. “I’ll go back to bed, then.”

Seongwoo nods, watching Minhyun turn back towards the staircase, feeling a little uneasy. Stepping ahead almost unconsciously, he manages to be fast enough to lightly grab at Minhyun’s arm before he started walking upstairs.

“Wait”, he stage-whispers, not wanting to wake up anyone from the lower floors. “I’m—I’m sorry about what happened to your friend today.”

He’s not sure, at first, whether his word choice is the right one; when Minhyun turns back to him with a slight frown on his face, he regrets having said anything at all.

“Don’t feel sorry for him”, he mutters back sternly. “Minki’s more resilient than anyone I know. He would reject your pity. I reject your pity, too.”

He frees himself from Seongwoo’s grip and makes his way upstairs, not looking back even once.

Seongwoo inwardly curses his big mouth and bad wording choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title taken from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XtyQNt1hcyw), pretty much the title track of this fic's soundtrack, really.


	5. so plant the thought and watch it grow (wind it up and let it go)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> current threat level is orchid
> 
>  
> 
> what will survive of us is resolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long, i had. a lot to write for this chapter and little to no idea of just HOW to go about it sdgff i ended up cutting it/leaving half of it for ong's part but i swear it'll make a lot more sense... it was getting too ong, and having a 9+k chapter among 5-6k chapters would be a little... weird.
> 
> anyway, i'm so sorry in advance for the quality of this - and for the lack of onghwang, too. there's. a lot of nu'est (minki in special) in this, and i truly hope it's not that much of a boring read. things do get interesting next chapter, though, that much i can promise :)

The few days off they’re granted between filming weeks couldn’t have come soon enough for Minhyun.

It feels good to come back to their dorm – to pile up on top of Aron like they hadn’t seen him in months rather than just a week, to curl up against him on the couch that somehow has room enough for the five of them, limbs tangled together and breathings synchronized like they are only one being once and for all. Everything is fine in the world for the brief five minutes it lasts before Aron complains of cramping and back pains like the old man he pretends he is, and shakes them all off himself, watching in amusement as Dongho and Jonghyun fall gracelessly to the floor, while Minki and Minhyun simply roll back to his sides, clinging to him like two oversized koalas.

“You missed me that much?”, the eldest asks, chuckling when Minki dramatically grabs onto his arm and sighs loudly. “Was it that bad?”

“It was”, Minki replies before anyone else can, but none of them disagree. "The food was horrible, we had to practice for longer than humanly possible, and they had us do interviews for _hours_ before releasing us to go home--"

"Even for higher rankings?", Aron asks, frowning. "I mean, isn't Class A supposed to have a few benefits—why are all of you looking at me like I killed your dogs?"

The four of them immediately look away in shame; Aron is quick to understand that he might not have said the most appropriate thing to welcome them back home. He sighs and gestures for them to come closer again; Jonghyun and Dongho sit down next to his legs, but don't quite touch him, still looking down.

"Hey", he gently calls their attention, reaching out to run his fingers through Minhyun's and Minki's hair. "I said I'd be proud of you guys no matter the outcome, right? That still holds true. If they couldn't acknowledge you for the talented performers you are, then it's their loss."  
Minhyun closes his eyes; someone sobs and he refuses to figure out who it its. It might as well be the four of them, although their sense of unity is frayed and imbalanced despite Aron's presence.

"We—we failed, hyung", Jonghyun confesses quietly, his voice wavering. "Our evaluation was—it was messy, to say the least. We should have done better, but Kahi noona was there—"

"We _knew_ she would be there", Dongho adds when it feels like Jonghyun's voice will disappear if he continues talking, "but it didn't make things any better to us when she saw us and started _crying_."

Minhyun reaches for his face, touches his cheeks; they're dry. Good. He's not the one sobbing, and he wonders if he should worry that it took touching his own face to realize that.

"I couldn't look at her", Jonghyun continues as is his voice hasn't been reduced to a whisper, now, "I thought I'd break down, too. It was bad enough that we made a lot of mistakes—"

"My voice _cracked_ , hyung", Dongho interrupts Jonghyun again; suddenly Minhyun feels like he's watching two children complain to their mother about school. It should be funny, in a way, if they allowed themselves to have a more optimistic perspective of their current situation.

As it is, Minhyun thinks, everything they speak only amounts to _pathetic_ in his mind. He's thankful Aron doesn't seem to share that opinion, and even more thankful that he lacks the energy to voice any of his thoughts out loud.

"You still did your best", Aron tries to encourage them, to no avail. "Under the circumstances you were... There was a lot of pressure from the other trainees, I bet."

"There was", Jonghyun conceded. "But it shouldn't have affected us so much. We should be _used_ to the pressure, by now—"

Aron sighs, letting go of Minki to reach down and pat Jonghyun's head. "Stop beating yourselves up. This is different." _You're different_ , it goes unsaid, but rings true to Minhyun's ears.

Jonghyun says nothing for a long time; Minhyun leans closer to Aron's shoulder and thinks he could fall asleep right there, ignore the fact that they still have so much to tell their hyung, pretend they're not falling apart at the seams despite the damage being visible to everyone.

Aron clears his throat, effectively snapping Minhyun out of his sleepy daze. "So," he starts, gently nudging the two boys at his sides, "is this an appropriate moment to announce I've made dinner for us or should I ask about your reevaluations first?"

Everyone groans; Minhyun thinks he does, too. "Dinner first", a voice that could be his or Jonghyun's replies, and Aron chuckles despite the clear worry in his eyes.

"No crying on my food", he warns lightly before he stands up to lead them to the kitchen, dragging Minki and Minhyun along.

(it goes unheard.)

xxx

Over dinner, they finally open up, warmer and more comfortable than when they had first arrived. Jonghyun lightens up the mood with short anecdotes about Class B and the interesting individuals he has met there ( _Kim Jaehwan's laughter is... very unique_ , he limited himself to saying before proceeding to attempt to imitate it, much to everyone else's dismay), and Minki takes the opportunity to praise his F Class boys, who Minhyun came to know (and denominate) as _Minkinions_. It turns out to be the best way to break it to Aron that most of them, with the exception of Jonghyun, did not rank as high as they could on their reevaluations.

"Did you guys really think I'd be disappointed?", the eldest asks after a brief moment of silence; Jonghyun plays with his food (which is very uncharacteristic of him, Minhyun notes) and Minki bites his lip, looking away in shame.

Dongho shrugs. "We actually didn't have much time to think about that, hyung", he explains around a mouthful of pasta (western style; Aron knows he doesn't need to go out of his way to please the younger ones when it comes to food and uses that to his advantage most of the time). "We considered calling you, but they'd only let us make one call and, you know, I wanted to call my dad..."

Aron quickly reassures him. "No, it's no problem, really, don't worry about me." He gently lays a hand over Dongho's and squeezes it. "I'll be okay as long as I know you guys are okay, too."

The younger finally looks up, smiling at their hyung. "We really missed you, you know."

"I know", Aron sighs, staring down at his plate, this time. "I should have—"

"Let's not talk about it again", Jonghyun gently interrupts Aron. "Your health comes first, hyung."

Aron sends Jonghyun a look. "Yours, too", he mutters in defeat.

Jonghyun frowns. "It's—it's different."

Minhyun tunes them out; conversations like these would usually go in endless circles until someone stood up to start doing the dishes (usually Minhyun himself). Besides, acknowledging that there might be something wrong with any of them at that point was, in his opinion, counterproductive when they had only a few days of rest before filming started again and they’d have to head back to the _other_ dorm.

All conversation dies, indeed, the moment he stands up from his seat and starts collecting their empty plates. Jonghyun looks down and Aron looks guilty; when Minki uses that opportunity to leave the table and sneak off to his room, Aron speaks again.

"How long are you guys gonna film, this time?", he asks, trying – and failing – to sound neutral.

Minhyun stops in his tracks, and so does Minki.

"About a week or so?", Jonghyun replies, frowning, sensing the change in the atmosphere as much as the others. "Why?"

Aron presses his lips together, looking much more sheepish than any hyung should be allowed to look, in Minhyun's opinion. "My parents called while you guys were away. Invited me for a visit while we—while we're on hiatus."

Jonghyun is the first to force out a smile at the news, refusing to let the silence that follows that announcement to stretch into awkwardness. "That's great, hyung. You haven't been there for so long. Did you say yes?"

Minhyun hopes he said no.

"I did", Aron replies quietly after a beat, looking anywhere but at them. "My flight's next week. We haven't... bought return tickets yet, but—"

"That's _amazing_ , hyung", Jonghyun repeats, trying to sound more enthusiastic, like a knot hadn't just formed in his throat at the elder's final words. "I mean, you could be back before the final—if—if we make it that far—but don't worry about that for now. You have to enjoy your time with your family."

Aron glances at him, then at Dongho, who looks lost in thought. "You're my family, too, you know."

"We'll never forget that", Minhyun hears himself speaking, mechanically, emotionless; he wishes he was better at pretending not to be upset.

( _Am I even upset?_ , he asks himself, the weight of the plates on his hands his only anchor to his body)

Minki is speechless; it will probably take him a while to come around, Minhyun knows.

"I'll miss all of you," Aron says quietly in a perfect mirrored version of what they'd said to him on that fateful night.

xxx

Minki does come around, the next day, after sneaking into Aron's room in the dead of the night and staying there until morning came. Minhyun knows because, much like what happened that other night, he joined Minki in his bed to comfort him, only to wake up to the face of an ugly Wartotle plushie that most likely actually belonged to Jonghyun, instead of Minki's ugly sleep masked face.

No one questions the likely long conversation they had through the night, nor judges their puffy eyes and tired states when they walk into the kitchen and inhale the coffee Minhyun had prepared. Aron still lightly scolds him for doing housework in what was supposed to be their break, but Minhyun argues that he doesn't mind, that it helps take his mind off things, and Aron reluctantly concedes.

Dongho wakes up much, much later, and Jonghyun only leaves his room to eat before locking himself up to do God knows what (play video games, they all know, he had missed Aron, but he had missed his Nintendo 3DS even more). Once Minhyun finishes cleaning up (to his credit, Aron did try his best, but his efforts were not quite up to Minhyun's standards), he finds Minki on the couch, browsing through his phone.

It would be a familiar scene, again, but Minki is smiling at something on his screen, and Minhyun feels oddly relieved.

He sits by the maknae's side, trying to peek at his phone over his shoulder. Minki lets him. It's a Kakaotalk conversation with one of his Binis; Minhyun isn't sure which one.

"Hyunbin wants to go shopping tomorrow", Minki tells him casually after sending a string of heart emojis to whom Minhyun assumed was Hyunbin on the chat ( _Bini #1_ didn't do much for his memory, sadly). "Do you think we can make time for that?"

"Are you inviting me along?", Minhyun asks amusedly, leaning closer to the younger.

Minki shrugs and puts his phone aside, but doesn't push Minhyun away. "Hyunbin thought you were funny, and maybe going out for a bit could help you get out of, you know", he lifts up a hand and pokes Minhyun in the head none too gently, "here."

Minhyun chooses to ignore his comment (it will come back to bite him in the ass, he _knows_ ), and presses further against Minki until he has enough room in the couch to lie down and place his head on the youngest's lap. Minki grunts in mock annoyance, but allows him to do so anyway, the hand that had previously poked him now running through his hair in a soothing motion before adopting his usual petting pattern that he knew Minhyun liked: gentle forehead strokes, then combing his fingers as far into the back of his head as he could reach, rinse and repeat. Minhyun quickly relaxes against his ministrations, a lazy smile playing on his face.

When they're done making themselves comfortable, Minki uses his free hand to pick up his phone again, his other hand never stopping its petting.

It's safe, Minhyun thinks, aware that Minki hasn't completely left him off the hook just yet. It still feels safer than any of the previous days had ever felt, familiar enough that he can fall back into a mindset he was long unused to.

The steady strokes of Minki's hand lull him into sleep before he does.

xxx

“This feels nice”, Minhyun says in a hoarse voice when he wakes up, unable to bring himself to care about how much time had passed since he fell asleep. He stares up at Minki adoringly from his lap, mind muddy enough to let a few things slip from his brain-to-mouth filter. “I missed you”, he adds quietly; that phrase has been a recurring one, these days, and one Minhyun had been unwilling to say out loud in fear of its striking sincerity.

Minki rolls his eyes, ruffling Minhyun's hair. “We still see each other every day”, he reasons.

“In passing”, Minhyun retorts, mock pouting at the younger. “It’s not the same, only having Dongho to annoy.”

Minki rolls his eyes again before setting his phone down to fondly look at Minhyun. “It’s _exactly_ the same. You’ve always annoyed him the most, anyway.”

“Wow, that’s new, coming from you”, Minhyun quips, eyes widening in pleased surprise. “Does that mean I can bother you as much as I want from now on?”

The youngest scowls, not really annoyed, but playing his part. “No, you’re still banned from pouncing at me. And from force-feeding me. _And_ from being clingy in general.”

Minhyun laughs, carefree and genuine for the first time in a long while; when he stops, his eyes remain clear, free from the mist that seemed to surround him those days.

“Hey”, Minki whispers, smiling down at him before they fall silent, “are you just sleepy or are you really coming back to us?”

( _ah, of course_ , something in the back of Minhyun's mind protests despite how light-hearted he feels, _it_ would _come back to bite him in the ass, eventually_ )

Minhyun blinks in confusion, but stays still when Minki presses a hand on his head to keep his head down on his lap. “What do you mean?”

The younger brushes Minhyun’s bangs out of his eyes; they were getting too long again, but Minhyun wasn’t too inclined on having them cut, just yet. Someone would eventually do the job when deemed necessary for the recording, anyway. “You’re… you, again”, Minki gestures vaguely with his free hand. “Sometimes. Right now, for example. It’s been a while since I’ve last seen those… glimpses of you, I guess.”

“I’m not sure I understand”, Minhyun replies, letting out a small, groggy laugh.

(he understands; he just needs to hear it from Minki, too)

“It’s hard to explain, but”, Minki starts, frowning in thought, “I’ve known you for a while, now. Sometimes, you just… you’re not yourself? It’s like you’re pretending to be here but you’re… somewhere else.” They exchange a look; Minki, stern, worried, Minhyun calm, impassive. Minki pokes at his head again, intent on showing him just _where_. “And it’s not a good place to be, either, I can tell.

“But you’re here, now”, Minki offers him the tiniest smile, “Maybe you’re not _completely_ here right now, maybe you’re only really here when I need you—when we need you.” His fingers catch on a longer strand of Minhyun’s hair and he carefully brushes it aside. “You said you missed me, but you have no idea how much I missed you.”

A vague sense of guilt strikes Minhyun, now fully awake and wondering just how much he constantly worries not only Minki but all the others over his state of mind. Thinking about how he should feel, he concludes, would be counterproductive, considering Minki wants him _out_ of his head for a little.

Dongho enters the living room before he can say anything to Minki. "I'm going to the studio", he announces, shuffling on a cap and a mask, "Get some work done—"

"Oh, no, you're not", Minki cuts him off. "Jonghyun told me not to let you go to the studio, We gotta _rest_ , Dongho, so don't be stupid and think you're in any condition to work, today."

To his credit, Minki looks downright _terrifying_ from where Minhyun's watching him; he chances a glance at Dongho, who looks more annoyed than intimidated (for now, he thinks), and tries his best to mimic Minki's expression when their eyes meet.

"What, it's two on one, then?", Dongho protests, pointing indignantly at Minhyun. "I have to go. Bumzu hyung said he'd be there—"

"Well, reschedule", Minki says simply, crossing his arms over his chest; Minhyun fights the urge to whine for him to pet him again. "You're not going anywhere today."

Dongho groans; for a moment, Minhyun thinks he's going to stomp his feet and throw a tantrum like a kid. There is nothing _really_ stopping him from going other than Jonghyun's imminent disappointment and Minki's stern gaze, but both are very scary things in Dongho's opinion, and so he retreats from the shoe rack and places his coat back on the hanger.

(Minhyun makes a mental note to praise him later for _putting things back into their places and not throwing them around_ )

"I hate this fucking family", the elder grumbles, begrudgingly sitting down on the spot Minki was patting on the couch. "What am I supposed to do, now, sit here and rot?"

"Down", Minki says, pulling him by the shoulders until he's lying halfway on the couch, legs strewn over its arm due to the lack of space. "Lie down and _rest_."

"How do you expect me to do that _here_ with a _whole Minhyun_ on your lap?", Dongho questions, poking at Minhyun's head ( _what's with people and poking my head today_ , Minhyun wonders).

Minki frowns and taps at the leg Minhyun isn't currently lying down on. "I have two legs."

"And Minhyun has a big head", Dongho mutters; when he does manage to put his head on Minki's lap, his head bumps hard against Minhyun's, causing the two of them to yelp loudly in pain. "See?", he says, rubbing at his head while Minki continues to force him to lie down, keeping a minimal but safe distance between the two heads currently occupying his lap, "I told you. Big head."

"Shut up", Minhyun retorts, rolling his eyes.

Minki rolls his eyes. “You children better behave or I’m kicking the two of you out.”

Both boys grunt in indignance, but say nothing more, preferring instead to bask in the quiet comfort Minki is offering them.

Minhyun couldn’t have imagined that Minki, of all people, would be the one comforting them after getting home, not after the breakdown during their recording, not after watching as he grew gradually more bitter about their situation, more jaded, snapping at everything and nothing.

(and yet, treating those younger than him with kindness unmatched, so far; Minhyun thinks that maybe _he_ should learn a bit from Minki, for once)

It takes barely five minutes of their impromptu cuddle session for Dongho to fall into a deep slumber, Minki’s steady fingers threading through his shorter hair, tips pressing at his shaved sides just the way Dongho likes it, much like how he catered to Minhyun’s tastes before. They share a chuckle when Dongho starts snoring; for a fleeting moment, Minhyun thinks as he watches Minki’s eyes crinkle at the corners that he should remind his friend just how beautiful he looks when he’s smiling.

He’s quick to brush that thought aside; maybe another day.

“We’re not done, yet”, Minki singsongs when Minhyun closes his eyes, withdrawing his hand from the older boy’s head. Minhyun whines, still refusing to open his eyes again. “C’mon, open up, spill the beans. Now that you’re _here_ I gotta take the most out of you before you retreat to your shell.”

Minhyun shrugs, eyes still closed, nearly bumping his head on Dongho’s again; Minki’s hand moves to the back of his head, accommodating him at a safe distance from the other. “I was worried about you, the other day”, he chooses to say instead, ignoring Minki’s annoyed huff. “Why did you—why did you cry?”

“Are you sure you don’t know the reason?”, Minki asks back, the pads of his fingers running softly through Minhyun’s scalp. “I don’t think I wanna talk about it, anyway—that was actually a good thing for me and the boys—we opened up to each other, that night, and we got much closer.” He pauses, hand stilling as well, and Minhyun risks opening an eye to spy on him. The younger’s face is unreadable. “It feels good, to have friends in bad places. I’m not alone, even if I’m not with you guys most of the time there.”

“Even so”, Minhyun tries, pauses, looks away, his hesitation gauging another annoyed sigh from Minki. “Isn’t this taking too much of a toll on you? We could always—we could always drop out, if it’s too much—“

“Don’t even _think_ about it”, the youngest warns him sternly. “I’m fine. I’m okay. Like I said, I’m not alone. And it’s not—giving up’s _not_ a possibility. We don’t say it out loud enough—“, his hand flies to Minhyun’s mouth when he opens it, “ _we don’t say it out loud enough –_ this is our last chance, Minhyun. And you, of all people, talking about giving up? You’re definitely not here anymore.”

Minhyun pries Minki’s hand off his mouth, frowning. “I wasn’t talking about giving up just for the sake of it.” His grip on the youngest’s hand is strong; he refuses to let go. “I’m worried about you. About Dongho. Hell, I’m worried about Jonghyun, he’s about to hard carry us alone through this thing—”

He trails off deliberately leaving Aron out, unwilling to poke on their very fresh wound.

_We haven’t bought return tickets yet._

Minki sighs in defeat, lets his hand lay limp on Minhyun’s grip. “We’re grown men, Minhyun.” _We weren’t grown men when we started_. “I’ve seen people in much worse states in my rank, believe me”, he continues. “And they’re doing fine. If we give up just—just because I cried a little, then what? What’s gonna be left of us?”

They fall silent; Minhyun looks up at Minki, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, how his cheeks seem a little hollower than they did the previous week, the frown lines that had never been there before; _still beautiful_ , the thought comes as naturally to him as breathing, _but dimming, flickering, matting at the edges_.

Minhyun thinks of dying stars.

“But we weren’t talking about me”, Minki says before Minhyun can finish formulating a stuttered apology about his lack of perception, “and I appreciate your concern, but it’s definitely not necessary.”

“Okay”, Minhyun settles for replying, “I’ll believe you. What do you want to—“

“ _Everything_ ”, Minki says simply, “Dongho won’t talk about shit, but it’s not like he’s the one with the A Class guy sending him death glares that could be misinterpreted as bedroom eyes—“

Minhyun frowns, both at the broken spell of their _moment_ and at Minki’s wording. “What are you talking about, now?”

“You _know_ what and _who_ I’m talking about, don’t play coy”, Minki crosses his arms, glaring at his friend. “The one _you_ were ogling on day one?”

Realization dawns on Minhyun, and his tongue slips before he can hold himself back. “Ah”, he mutters, “Seongwoo.”

The name spills out of his lips with such familiarity it has Minki raising an eyebrow at him. Minhyun presses his lips closed; he was never a good liar, but a secret is a secret and he knows he has to keep this one even from his closest friends, for the time being.

“Don’t get any ideas”, he warns Minki, fighting the rising heat rushing to his cheeks up to the tips of his ears. “He’s just a guy. Same age as us. We met—during a bathroom break, and he said he’s a fan. That’s all.”

His voice squeaks by the end of his made-up explanation and Minki snorts, elbow almost hitting Dongho’s face, centimeters short of the tip of his nose. Their friend, however, continues to sleep, blissfully unaware of how much of a fool Minhyun was making out of himself in front of their maknae.

“ _Just a guy_. I don’t believe a single word of what you’re saying, but you know what? You’re making the actual thing sound much weirder.” He lets out a short laugh, poking at Minhyun’s bright red ear. “Why didn’t you say hi or something when he was staring at you during rehearsal? That sure was awkward.”

“I don’t know”, Minhyun whines, almost as if begging for that conversation to end. “He’s awkward. I didn’t want him to think I might be, I don’t know, using his rank privileges for screentime. You know how it works.”

“Hell if I do”, Minki mutters back, “I got my fair share of gossip that I _fake cried to get more screentime_ that day. Wish it was that easy, to cry on cue.”

That brings a smile back to Minhyun’s face. “Park Jihoon can do that.”

“The child actor?”, Minki asks, humming when the elder nods in response. “You shared a room with him, didn’t you? Before reevaluations, I mean… How was he like?”

Minhyun considers his options: telling Minki about all the people he shared a room with in Class C, about Jihoon’s hard work and Jinyoung’s efforts, about their collective exhaustion that ultimately pulled most of them down the ranks, about watching most of their efforts go to waste—

(his own, even)

—or telling him what he needs to know, spare him the details; he’s seen just as much of that in his own class, there’s no need to repeat the same stories under different names.

“He worked hard”, Minhyun says, in the end. “He’s a good kid.”

Minki hums, tells him an anecdote about Dongbin, the youngest of his _Binions_ ( _he said he hasn’t met a hyung as kind as me_ , the youngest recounts, that same pretty smile Minhyun never gets tired of on his face, _and he apologized a lot, too. I’m not sure what for_ ), lets him ask questions and divert the subject again. Minhyun knows Minki clearly isn’t happy with the way their conversation went, and as Dongho wakes up from his own nap, a look from Minki tells him there is a lot more left unsaid that won’t be, next time.

xxx

The remaining days at their dorm go by in a blur; they help Aron pack, talk about the other contestants like they’re the only subject they know, nap a lot, and Minki doesn’t bother trying to restart their conversation. Minhyun tries to keep his mind off of what will possibly happen once they’re back to recording, how their first mission will go, the people they will have to face—

Minhyun tries not to think.

Their farewell to Aron happens the morning they leave for the _other dorm_ ; his flight was scheduled for the following day, and they try not to touch on the _return tickets_ subject yet, but their hyung’s final words are hopeful ones.

_I’ll be here to cheer you all on in the final._

It doesn’t take long after their arrival at the new dorm for all the trainees to be called to the main room yet again; Minhyun barely has the time to change into the green sweatshirt he had yet to grow fond of before being rushed along by Dongho—and Jisung, one of the eldest among their rank—towards the exit.

Once the ninety-something of them – a few dropouts were to be expected, but Minhyun is surprised they’re no longer complete after only one week of filming – are reunited under the same roof and in front of BoA again, their first mission is explained, and Daehwi is called first to pick his team, as expected of their first center.

His choices are predictable, Minhyun thinks as he tries to suppress a knowing smile – their first stage recording had caused quite the uproar, and a select few blessed faces had become hot topics among fans and press alike. He’s surprised – but not offended – when Daehwi chooses not to pick anyone from his group, and a quick quiet exchange with Jonghyun tells him he’s not the only one.

They had a few plans laid out, themselves, were they ever lucky enough to be able to choose their teams.

(Minhyun chuckles to himself as BoA explains to Daehwi how he’s supposed to randomly pick the next one to choose a team in a ballot; knowing their luck, their turn wouldn’t come, not that time, not ever—)

“Level D, Hwang Minhyun-nim from Pledis Entertainment—!”

 _Oh_ , Minhyun thinks, smile overtaking his face even as unease takes over his heart; _always suspect any change in the tides_ , he tells himself, heart constricting when he finds Jonghyun smiling but Dongho with his jaw set. By his side, Yongbin pats his shoulders, genuinely happy for him in front of the cameras (out of them too, Minhyun would know, they went through the same together the entire time spent there), and Minhyun almost feels compelled to apologize to him; _you’re not my pick_ , he wants to tell him, not cruelly so, but instead he shares his smile and descends the bleachers to meet Daehwi halfway and take his place beside BoA.

 _Deep breaths_ , he mutters to himself through anxious laughter, _we’ve gone through this before_.

“Alright”, he says quietly into the microphone, scrutinizing the trainees’ faces before him. “My team picks are…”

( _he’s a vocal powerhouse_ , Jonghyun said over dinner after his sad attempt at imitating Jaehwan’s laughter. _A bit of a bad dancer, but he learns fast. With a voice like that, no one really pays attention if his moves are a little wonky._ )

“Independent trainee Kim Jaehwan from Class B.”

Jaehwan seems pleased enough to be picked; Minhyun doesn’t really know what exactly makes all those trainees smile so much at him, but he figures he must be doing something right, behavior-wise. The orange sweater-clad boy takes his place beside him and gives him a short nod and a smile before he continues through his picks.

( _I like Kang Daniel’s pink hair_ , Minhyun said casually over the table, _reminds me of Minki’s last year._

 _Mine was a wig, you’re aware of that, right?,_ Minki retorted after gracelessly snorting at the indirect compliment. _It is a nice shade of pink, though,_ he conceded, _he’s a little awkward around the edges, but definitely talented_.

Jonghyun scribbled his name on the small notepad in his hands.)

“Class A, Kang Daniel.”

Daniel has an easy smile, one he doesn’t hesitate offering Minhyun and Jaehwan when his name is called, jogging towards them with a slight skip on his step before solemnly putting himself beside Jaehwan, waiting patiently for Minhyun’s next pick.

( _I vouch for him_ , Minki declared firmly, watching Jonghyun’s notepad like a hawk. _He’s got the looks and the enthusiasm and he’s a great person overall._

 _We’re not looking for good people, Minki_ , Jonghyun reminded him, not unkindly. _Isn’t he the one you mentioned had the most trouble with learning the choreography?_

Minki shrugged, scratching at his head. _He learned it in the end. He just needs a little motivation and lots of sleep._

 _Are we choosing potential teammates or a cat to adopt?_ , Dongho quipped, dodging Minki’s indignant slap. _Sorry, but you’re gonna need to do better to convince us to pick an F trainee._

 _Dongho,_ Jonghyun warned him as Minki’s face fell, _you’re talking to an F trainee you’d pick._

Dongho’s eyes widened and he hung his head in shame; that effectively put an end to their talk that night.)

“Class F, Kwon Hyunbin.”

The boy in question, tall and lanky and still model-like despite his awkwardness, looked too surprised to be picked, looking back quickly at Minki when he cheered louder than the others; Minhyun decides, as they exchange quick greetings before Hyunbin goes to his place, that he likes Hyunbin, and makes a silent promise to Minki to take care well of his friend.

( _his Binion_ , he laughs to himself at their shared, terrible, terrible joke; anything to distract himself from the next name he has to announce. Leaving the best for last, he thinks, is a necessary evil if he wants the other trainees not to think he’s too biased)

He swallows the lump on his throat, eyes darting everywhere but at the person he needs to find.

( _he has the looks, he has the voice, he dances well,_ Dongho muttered in slight distaste, _is there anything he can’t do?_

Minhyun could think of a few things, but a promise is a promise and so he waits for Jonghyun’s verdict, ignoring Minki’s glances in his direction, his unasked questions.

 _He’s an actor, too_ , Jonghyun added, thoughtfully writing his name down. _He looks like he’ll be very popular once the show starts airing._

 _He’s popular enough as it is,_ Dongho chuckled, looking at Minhyun. _Someone couldn’t take his eyes off him in the evaluation, remember that?_

Minhyun groaned. _And here I thought you were too busy ogling at BoA to pay any attention to us._

 _Nah,_ the elder shrugged, raising an eyebrow at Jonghyun, who was trying to hold back a smile. _I gotta keep track of your bullshit to use it against you later._

 _Stop teasing him_ , Minki came to his defense, surprisingly enough; Minhyun laughed in delight, jutting his tongue out at Dongho. _So what if our Minhyun has a crush? He’s finally growing up, we should encourage him—_

Disappointing, but not surprising, of course.

 _Leave me alone_ , Minhyun tried to defend himself. _He’s just a guy. A talented guy, but just a guy. I’m not sure he should be a pick, he might—have a bit of an attitude, don’t you think?_

 _You talk like you know,_ Minki quipped; Minhyun ignored him, sending Jonghyun a pleading look.

The leader could only shrug noncommittally. _He’s still a strong one. I’d pick him anyway._ )

_He’s just a guy._

( _a guy with an attitude_ )

“Class A, Ong Seongwoo.”

He finds Seongwoo, heart constricting in painful joy that he’d managed to capture the one moment his eyes widen in unabashed surprise before he schools himself back to neutrality. Their movements are perfectly calculated from that moment on, Seongwoo’s much more polished than Minhyun’s, for sure, still convincing enough that no one notices how his smile falters when Seongwoo mouths the question _Why me?_ as he passes by to greet him, a gesture that goes widely ignored by those watching, meant for Minhyun and Minhyun only.

There’s one name left, and Minhyun has to physically restrain his hand from clutching his chest in a futile attempt to calm his rapidly beating heart.

( _Between the four of us_ , Jonghyun started, looking intently at each one of them, _who would you pick for your team?_

Dongho hummed in thought, looking between Minhyun and Minki for a moment, then straight at Jonghyun. _You_ , he told the leader, _we match better than I would with those two alone._

 _Hey,_ Minki protested, not really inclined on engaging Dongho, _I’d pick Jonghyun too. It’s always good to have a rapper around and he’d make a good team leader, I guess._

 _You guess_ , Jonghyun mocked the younger, slightly offended.

 _I’d pick you too,_ Minhyun added before they could engage each other. _You take care of others well, and you’re a very good dancer._

Jonghyun smiled sheepishly, looking away from the three of them.

 _And you are a good leader,_ Minhyun continued, never taking his eyes off the eldest, _you’ve taken care of all of us well. Stop blaming yourself so much for things that absolutely aren’t your fault._

 _We need you to be a leader again if we wanna make it through this,_ Minki said, pulling at Jonghyun’s hand that he had been holding since Minhyun had no idea when. _But being a leader doesn’t mean you have to carry all the burdens of the group alone._

 _Would you start sharing them with us if we ask you to, from now on?,_ Minhyun asked, still trying to meet Jonghyun’s eyes; he still refused to look up, a crimson rising to his cheeks.

They pretended not to notice the water in his eyes.

 _Of course I would._ )

“Class B, Kim Jonghyun.”

Team complete and mission accomplished, Minhyun draws the next one to pick from the ballot. Things aren’t, by any means, sorted out between the six of them; the atmosphere is awkward when they retreat to the bleachers in their new formation, Jonghyun too far for Minhyun’s comfort, Jaehwan right behind him still pretty much a friendly stranger.

As they wait, he glances back at the five faces behind him.

Jonghyun looks back, assurance and something akin to gratefulness in his eyes; Minhyun feels his throat constrict as he thinks of how relieved he feels to have _family_ around after the loneliness he’d felt in Class C, after watching Minki suffer from a distance in Class D.

He moves on; Seongwoo looks back at him, too, unreadable behind the amenable façade he’d put up to continue filming. Minhyun definitely isn’t looking forward to the confrontation he knows is coming.

 _Why me_ , Seongwoo mouths again, eyebrows furrowing for only a second before his expression returns to indifference. _Later_ , Minhyun mouths back at him, much less skilled at pretending; his voice certainly would have wavered, had he said it out loud. As it is, Seongwoo shows no reaction other than a curt nod.

Minhyun can only wish his acting skills were that well-polished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs for this chapter:
> 
> panic! at the disco - ready to go (get me out of my mind), a pretty good summary of the minren dynamics in this fic  
> glen hansard - lies, which titled this chapter (again, this is not a poll winner but it resonated better with what i had envisioned for this chapter)


	6. i’ll describe the way I feel (you’re my new achilles heel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> current threat level is teal
> 
>  
> 
> self-deception is an easy answer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is almost three weeks late and i'm so sorry! it just gets harder and harder to write it, these days...
> 
> possible warnings for this chapter: unhealthy doses of internalized homophobia spread out around the whole thing, some classic Seongwoo Anxiety(tm)
> 
> i'll finally get back to comments this week; again, i'm so sorry it took so long! and special thanks to people over @ twt who put up with my whining about this chapter for so long... this was an anxiety-filled ride, but i... hope the final product was worth it. i have a feeling this is more of a boring read than the previous chapter was, though sdfdshgds

“You do realize this is gonna raise some eyebrows, right”, Seongwoo questions Minhyun as soon as he enters the bathroom (the second floor one, out of service for over a year yet left unlocked), their hiding place. Seongwoo hates calling it _their_ hiding place; he had found it way before Minhyun did, but now that they’re stuck on the same team, he supposes he doesn’t have much choice other than _sharing_.

Seongwoo was never good at sharing.

“I know”, Minhyun sighed in response, hands nervously wringing the bottom of his green jumper. “But that couldn’t really wait any longer.” He scratches at the back of his head, eyes fixed on the stall door behind Seongwoo. “In a few minutes, we’re gonna have to sit down and talk like a group, and we’re gonna have to be _civil_ to each other—“

“Do you hate me?”, Seongwoo interrupts him, one eyebrow raised; his eyes frantically search for Minhyun’s until they meet, and he sees genuine surprise instead of any signs of spite. “I’d assume you don’t, if you picked me for your team—and proceeded to lose the _one_ song we wanted to pick, honestly, you have legs for days and you can’t _run?_ ”

He catches himself rambling before Minhyun can fully process what he’d just said and become indignant, then clears his throat. “Look. I don’t hate you, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I just don’t… why you picked _me_? I thought you’d made it clear enough last time we talked that you didn’t want to get along with me.”

Minhyun sighs, the floor tiles suddenly very appealing sight to his eyes. “And I didn’t. Not because I _hate_ you—it’s such a strong word, anyway, but—”, he pauses, looks up at Seongwoo again, hesitant but warm, so warm Seongwoo starts to suspect that his act might not be an act at all. “… but because I thought _you_ didn’t like me. At all.”

“Do you”, he shoots back at Seongwoo, “not like me?”

Seongwoo sighs, finding himself at a loss of words; _I just told you I don’t hate you_ , he wants to say, but he knows it won’t answer Minhyun’s question ( _hate is such a strong word_ , and yeah, he’s right). Telling him the truth would be too cruel ( _I don’t_ , he imagines himself saying to Minhyun, yet it sounds too insincere to be _the truth_ ; the thought of Minhyun’s face falling and the warmth in those eyes fading into something colder, sadder, sounds more like a bother than something actually satisfactory), but he soon realizes there is no easy answer to that question that doesn’t meddle with things better left untouched inside his still haphazard brain. He feels _something_ for Minhyun, yes, but it is nowhere near the realms of _dislike_ , yet it is not quite a _like_ , either.

He thinks of jealousy, of Minhyun’s honey voice in the recordings of _Pick Me_ , of Minhyun’s broad shoulders and likeable face, of Minhyun’s fans and easy popularity that stemmed from already being an idol; he thinks of _pity_ , of being overshadowed by younger labelmates, of never achieving enough recognition and success to the point Seongwoo had to actually _Naver search_ for Nu’est when he first heard of their participation in the show, of uncertainty, a concept he was very well-acquainted with, albeit not on their level, not to that extent.

Neither word defines precisely how he feels about the other boy – _man_ , as old as him, still a boy when he got started, when Seongwoo himself was a boy with a distant dream.

He thinks of solidarity. Of Sungwoon and Taehyun helping the younger ones in their class, having debuted themselves but lucky enough not to mess up during their evaluations (too unlucky to have actually been acknowledged two years before). Of Samuel, the boy who never was, too young and unprepared, too unfortunate when his time finally came, taking his third shot at achieving a dream that should not be so distant to someone so talented.

Of Jonghyun, Dongho, Minki, and Minhyun.

_I reject your pity._

_(They would reject your pity, too)_

Minhyun’s eyes fall, and Seongwoo realizes he had been staring wordlessly at him without voicing an answer for too long. He clears his throat again, mutters a half-hearted _sorry_ , scratches at his head and realizes he has no idea how to voice his thoughts anymore.

The small voice in his head compelling him _not to be mean_ doesn’t do much to help, either.

“What were you thinking when you picked me?”, he asks carefully, quickly glancing at himself through the mirror behind Minhyun, then averting his eyes from the bony shadow of himself he sees in it.

Minhyun’s shoulders tense up further. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine”, Seongwoo replies simply, shrugging the tension off his own shoulders. “Why did you pick me?”

It’s Minhyun’s turn to hesitate and go silent; before Seongwoo can call him out for it, however, he recovers, much faster than the younger, a determined yet weak frown marring his face. “We gave it a lot of thought”, he says in an even voice, “my… friends and me. About who we should pay closer attention to in order to choose a good team—”

“How did you know you’d have to choose a team?”, Seongwoo shoots back almost instinctively, the sinking feeling in his stomach filling him with renewed mistrust. “Got a tip? Producer-nim is picking favorites, now?”

He regrets speaking faster than thinking the moment those words leave his mouth; in front of him, Minhyun looks shocked at the sudden outburst, mouth parted mid-sentence and brows knit together in disbelief.

“What”, Minhyun deadpans, eyes narrowing, cold like Seongwoo hadn’t wanted them to be, “are you trying to imply, Ong Seongwoo.”

It’s a question, despite the tone. A chance to reword his thoughts that Minhyun generously grants him. Seongwoo thinks he’s a little _too_ generous, letting that one slide.

Seongwoo looks down at his hands, wringing the hem of his own pink sweatshirt in a perfect mirrored image of Minhyun; he stops, unsettled by their odd synchrony, and scratches at the back of his head, buying himself time without risking pissing Minhyun off.

“If you gave it that much thought”, he starts, “why did you also choose _Hyunbin_ , of all people?”

Minhyun shrugs and purses his lips, not entirely happy with how Seongwoo once again diverted the subject, but not making any verbal comment on it, either. “He’s tall”, he reasons, “he’ll call a lot of attention with his looks, and he’s very enthusiastic overall. I have a feeling he’ll be very popular.”

 _What kind of rehearsed response is that_ , Seongwoo wonders, eyes widening in surprise, then shame, when he realizes he’d ended up saying it out loud.

“As I said, we gave it a lot of thought”, the elder repeats, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive, almost childish stance. “Didn’t you? You also knew you’d have a chance at making your team.”

Seongwoo hesitates, then nods shakily.

Of course he did.

 _Daniel, Woojin, Samuel_ —no, choosing from class A only would make people think he’s too greedy, it wouldn’t look good at all to the viewers. _Park Jihoon_ , wink boy extraordinaire, recently promoted from class C, maybe he stood a chance— _Kim Jaehwan_ , too, they’d need a main vocal— _that’s still aiming too high!_ , Seongwoo scolded himself. _…ah, what do I know about the lower ranks…_

(having low expectations from lower class trainees was a bias he should steer away from, he knew—

yet, the name _Nu’est_ crossed his mind more than once, not only twice; he made sure it went ignored as he thought harder on what to do)

“I did”, he answers at last. “Wasn’t as thorough as you, though.”

Minhyun scrunches up his nose. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“That’s—ah, whatever”, Seongwoo frowns, then realizes he and Minhyun have the same displeased expression. “So _why did you pick me_?”

“I’ve already answered that”, Minhyun says simply with a shrug.

Seongwoo shakes his head. “You didn’t. You just said you _gave it a lot of thought_. I want reasons.”

They stare at each other in silence, waiting to see who breaks first. Minhyun is the first to speak, but not yet the first to break.

“Is this your weird way of fishing for compliments?”

It takes a lot of effort for Seongwoo not to choke in air and make a complete fool of himself in front of the other trainee. “I-It’s a totally valid question, okay? You gave me solid reasons for picking Hyunbin, it’s only logical you have an explanation for choosing me, too.”

Minhyun hesitates at his reasoning, glancing at the bathroom door like he wants nothing more than to sprint out of that place and never come back. “I do have one, but I don’t _have_ to give it to you, do I? You’re too full of yourself, already.”

“Am not!”, Seongwoo protests indignantly. “Was it my looks? My voice? My dance? You picked Jaehwan so I don’t think you expect me to be a main vocal or—”

“It was _everything_ , okay?”, Minhyun finally breaks, looking anywhere but at Seongwoo. “You’re h—you’re handsome, you dance really well and I really like—you have a really good voice, Seongwoo.” He glares at the other boy for good measure. “Are we gonna stop with the questions now, or—”

Seongwoo does nothing to conceal the shit-eating grin on his face; it only widens when he notices the bright red tips of Minhyun’s ears, and how easily his cheeks flush when he’s barefaced. ( _Cute,_ Seongwoo’s mind betrays him, but he manages to keep that word in and away from his lips; it’s an adjective for kids and girls, only, he reminds himself.) “Yeah, yeah”, he nods nonchalantly, “we’re taking too long, anyway, we should probably head back.”

Minhyun nods a little too eagerly, and Seongwoo feels accomplished for making him flustered to the point of forgetting his own questions. “You’re right”, he says, pushing himself off the sink countertop he was leaning on and making for the door. “We’re really gonna raise some eyebrows, aren’t we?”

As they prepare to leave, Seongwoo chances another glance at the mirror; he looks bony, alright, not quite as tired as he had looked the last time they’d been recording, but he’d get there soon. From the corner of his eyes, he notices how Minhyun doesn’t seem to fill out the green jumper that well anymore, and maybe he had been looking at old pictures of Nu’est for way too long, but somehow his face also feels different. Thinner. As tired as his own.

Before he can fully process his thoughts, Seongwoo catches Minhyun’s arm as his hand goes for the door handle; the elder tenses up again, and Seongwoo has to take a deep breath to ready himself to say what he’s about to say next.

“Look”, he pulls gently at Minhyun’s arm, letting it go when he turns around to face him at what he deems to be a safe distance. “Personally, I think it’s pretty unfair that you guys are here. I didn’t like it at first. I think I still don’t, and I wasn’t planning to be all _chummy_ with you guys while we’re here, either.”

The corners of Minhyun’s lips turn up, yet he resists letting them break into a smile. “I know that.”

“But I’m also not about to be an asshole to you guys now that we’re in a team”, he continues, frowning at the floor for a moment before facing Minhyun again. “I think we should at least get along while we’re in this together.”

“Is this a friendship offer?”, Minhyun asks amusedly, but there’s a tinge of hope to his voice that makes Seongwoo’s response come off not nearly as harshly as he’d planned.

“I-It’s more like a truce offer, really. You’re not… you don’t have to _like_ me if you don’t feel like it, let’s just… help each other win this battle.” He offers Minhyun a smile, strangely satisfied to see the upturned corners of Minhyun’s lips mirroring his just as genuinely. “You did… _help_ me before, I should only do the same.”

Minhyun nods, looking into Seongwoo’s eyes like it’s the first time he does so.

(it feels like the first time to Seongwoo, too much of a coward to look directly at Minhyun’s eyes the first time they talked, still too scared to maintain eye contact for too long; he soon learns that Minhyun looks at people like there is nothing else in the world worth looking at, his undivided and genuine attention almost overwhelming for someone so used to pretending and deceiving like Seongwoo)

“Thanks for your sincerity”, he says at last, soft and low, yet startling Seongwoo out of his daze anyway. “Let’s get along well, then, Seongwoo-ah.”

They break eye contact as Minhyun saunters off the bathroom, leaving behind a slightly flustered and very indignant Seongwoo.

_W-who even gave him permission to call me that?_

A hearty chuckle from the other side of the door tells him he also said that out loud.

xxx

Seongwoo thinks he was right in suspecting Minhyun, even after their talk.

It’s in the way he speaks when they sit down together as a group to decide parts and details (in front of the cameras, nonetheless); in the way he promptly agrees with Seongwoo when they discuss who should be their leader, in the way he subtly pushes his will and convinces each one of them to agree with his own preferences, in his feline smile when Hyunbin and Daniel push Seongwoo to be the center.

 (Seongwoo did his research, although probably not as thoroughly as Minhyun; Jonghyun, being the eldest and already a leader in his own group, was definitely much more qualified than the likes of Hyunbin and Jaehwan, and from the very start Daniel showed himself to Seongwoo much more as a follower than as a leader. Minhyun was out of question, not out of any prejudice Seongwoo might have felt towards him, but because the first announcement he made the moment they put their heads together to think about their team was that he would _not_ lead them only because he picked them.)

Minhyun’s feline smile turns into a full-on Cheshire cat smile the moment Seongwoo finds himself smiling in pleased surprise at Daniel’s _I think Seongwoo hyung fits well_ , full of teeth and a new-found confidence that mildly scares Seongwoo (mildly fascinates him, too; the last time he saw Minhyun’s smile grow this wide was when he watched him talking to Minki, over a week ago). For a moment, he feels like questioning Minhyun again; _why are you agreeing with them?_ , he wants to ask, _we said we’d get along, but isn’t this a bit too much?_

Before their excessive compliments can become embarrassing, Seongwoo finds his way out of turning into a mumbling mess with a joke, an old strategy he finds out works out way too well for the cameras and even better behind them, when the bleak mood in Class A begs to be lifted through a gag or a simple silly quip about their day. Seongwoo had never been good at comforting people with nice words and considerate gestures; his strong point was always in making other people laugh or smile, instead.

It was a gift he would use for good, most of the time, and for _not so good_ , as he eloquently puts it in his mind when Minhyun throws himself on Jonghyun’s shoulders in laughter, a reaction certainly more extreme than what the others had been.

(Seongwoo is smiling, too, maybe a little too hard; this _is_ what he wants, after all)

Swallowing his tears as Hyunbin sticks the center badge to his chest, Seongwoo knows they’re not only out of happiness for the chance to shine that had just landed on his lap.

It’s too soon for _another_ bathroom break and the cameras are _very much_ on him, so he also swallows back the incoming flurry of anxiety that threatens to break him in the middle of their planning.

If Minhyun notices his brief discomfort, he says nothing.

xxx

“You’re dangerous”, Seongwoo mouths at Minhyun as soon as the cameras turn away and move on to the next team, scowling when the slightly taller man frowns in confusion and mouths back a _what_ at him. He steps closer, hesitant but unfaltering. “You’re dangerous”, he repeats in a barely audible whisper, head tilted downwards, eyes never leaving Minhyun’s face.

It unfolds in slow motion: the initial surprise, eyes widening and meeting Seongwoo’s, then Minhyun’s entire face melting into the purest expression of _satisfaction_ , the scorching smile he offers to the other male threatening to split his chapped lips. There’s warmth, both in Minhyun’s eyes and in Seongwoo’s stomach, and Seongwoo immediately regrets ever opening his mouth.

“Thank you”, comes the hushed reply; Seongwoo decides he doesn’t like the smugness in Minhyun’s tone.

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

(of course, this time he falters, maybe his voice breaks a little, but who can he blame if not stupid Minhyun with his stupid smug smile and stupid gentle voice? _Ugh, Seongwoo, get a grip_ , he tells himself in vain)

Minhyun shrugs, shakes his head; even bare-faced, with chapped lips and wearing the ugliest shade of green ever seen by mankind, there’s still a regal, almost ethereal aura to him.

Seongwoo would call it _beautiful_ , but, unlike _cute_ , he has yet to find the applicable boundaries for the use of that word on other guys.

“I’ll take it as one, anyway. It’s only fair that I do.”

There is no time for Seongwoo to process Minhyun’s words before Minhyun promptly steps away from him, turning to Hyunbin and going over their routine like nothing’s happened. There is also no time for Seongwoo to feel any righteous indignance at Minhyun’s cheekiness before Jonghyun calls them up to review the choreography for their song.

(had Seongwoo been more observant, he would have noticed the telltale red tips of Minhyun’s ears, clear indicators that he wasn’t fully capable of acting like _nothing_ had happened after their quiet altercation.

had Seongwoo been more observant, he would have noticed Jonghyun’s frowning face as he watched their exchange with more interest than he probably should)

xxx

They practice, for the most part, on the first day.

Jonghyun takes his role as a leader seriously from the start, watching each member individually before pulling Hyunbin and Jaehwan, their slower learners, aside for a small pep talk and to review a few steps. Seongwoo has no great trouble synchronizing with Daniel and Minhyun during those moments, hardened by their nonstop practice for their Pick Me stage.

As a group, he tries to follow Jonghyun’s lead at first, fully aware that he’s probably the best at choreographed dance among them, second only to Daniel, who still lacks the skill to lead people along, and maybe third to Seongwu himself and Daniel when it came to other forms of dancing. It’s interesting, Seongwoo thinks, to watch Jonghyun’s and Minhyun’s synchronization, how they seem to blend so well together in a way Seongwoo and Daniel can’t quite mimic, yet; Hyunbin sticks out like a sore thumb in their formation, and Jaehwan does the most not to break the delicate balance they manage to establish by the end of the day.

That night, as he closes his eyes before sleep in his new shared room, Daniel’s snores the only familiar background noise among the small ruckus his new roommates are making, Seongwoo tries not to think about how his eyes ended up following Minhyun instead of Jonghyun at some point he can’t quite pinpoint during practice.

With the next morning comes a 6a.m. announcement that they would have a special recording, that day; as he mindlessly pulls on a sweater, not awake enough to feel self-conscious about being the only one to sleep shirtless in their shared room, Seongwoo wonders why everyone else is in a hurry, why Jonghyun sprinted out of their room like the world was about to end the moment he finished tying his sneakers.

“Faster, Seongwoo”, Minhyun warns him in a low voice, all too aware of the cameras and microphones strewn around their room. “We have to be ready in ten minutes.”

That does not effectively wake Seongwoo up, but it’s enough to make him move, to throw his messenger bag over his shoulder and blindly follow an even sleepier Daniel out of the room, sprinting behind him but soon falling behind because even in a semi-asleep state Daniel manages to outdo him in every athletic aspect.

Seongwoo feels a vague form of jealousy at his friend’s retreating back, but it soon vanishes when Hyunbin’s oversized and clumsy limbs somehow get him to run faster than him; Seongwoo picks up his pace, friends and teammates be damned, until he makes it to the training center.

It’s not a dull day, by any means, but it’s not a team bonding day, either – separated by their classes, again, Seongwoo sticks to Daniel’s side like glue, ignoring Hyunbin’s glances in their direction from his Class F corner (Daniel, ever the friendly one, enthusiastically waves back at the lanky boy, treating him like a long-time friend when they’d barely started talking the other day). All the other classes were somewhere else, leaving only classes A and F to do their (very straining) activities together.

It leaves them with a lot of time to talk, too.

“Jonghyun hyung is really, cool, don’t you think?”, Daniel asks Seongwoo at one point during the recording, voice low not to be captured by the crew microphones while their conversation can still be muffled by the general banter going on around them.

Seongwoo shrugs; it’s as much of a response as Daniel will get, for now. It doesn’t discourage the younger.

“He really knows what he’s doing, and Minhyun hyung seems to trust him a lot” he continues nonchalantly, idly watching two F class trainees wrestle. “I’m glad we got picked by experienced people.”

“You can’t be so sure of that”, Seongwoo retorts before he can hold himself back, “we’ve barely started practice. Some of us are lacking a lot, already.”

Daniel frowns. “Hyung, you’re so negative. Don’t be anxious”, he tries to cheer up Seongwoo, “a lot of people managed to learn the choreography to Nayana really fast last week, I’m sure Jaehwan and Hyunbin can do the same.” He offers Seongwoo a smile before cheering loudly for the trainee who managed to knock Haknyeon down. “We’re lucky to be in their team, they’re really popular, already.”

“Not for the right reasons”, Seongwoo grumbles, running his mouth once again; Daniel’s face falls, and Seongwoo looks away in regret. Disappointing his only friend so far was not a good move so early into their struggle.

“Who hurt you, hyung?”, Daniel asks earnestly, still keeping his voice low. “They’re here to compete just as much as we are. I don’t think any of them would be here if they didn’t _have_ to. I mean”, he throws a glance at Minki, a few rows back, patting the winning trainee on the back ( _is that one of his Binis?_ , Seongwoo idly wonders, making half an effort to recognize the boy suffocating under Minki’s embrace), “Jisung hyung told me a bit about how the lower ranks work. It’s not really… pleasant to be there.”

They fall silent, Daniel staring at Seongwoo expectantly, Seongwoo looking anywhere but at the younger. Daniel is as transparent as one could be; it had always been easy for Seongwoo to read him, to tell his moods apart and to gauge his reactions. He knows Daniel hides most of his struggles and worries behind blinding smiles, and he knows they’re close enough that Daniel rarely ever spares him those smiles, allowing his face to fall when he’s tired and his eyebrows to knit together when he’s worried or angry.

It’s not exactly a _bad side_ of Daniel; he’s too nice for his complaints to be tiring, too kind for his comments to be actually _mean_. Seongwoo doesn’t exactly show his _worse_ side to Daniel, either, appeasing to the younger’s pleas to _be nice_ more often than not, indulging on his puppy-like antics just because. Daniel somehow sees a good person in Seongwoo, and Seongwoo sees a genuine person in Daniel.

 _I’m lucky to have you_ , he never tells the younger. He knows Daniel knows.

(the others, the ones his age, the ones who debuted much younger than anyone in their team, they’re harder to read; something in Minhyun screams genuine so loudly Seongwoo refuses to believe it’s real, and Jonghyun, calm, composed, despite the eminent despair in their actions, despite their slow crumbling out of their sense of unity, is too good to be true – Seongwoo wishes he’d believed in people as easily as Daniel does)

Before he can say anything, Daniel is called up to join the line to have his shoulders measured, and the conversation ends as abruptly as it started; Seongwoo doesn’t think he’d have an answer to Daniel, anyway; maybe the wait had hurt him. Maybe seeing others succeed when he had yet to be noticed, seeing others being given chances at much younger ages than him – and not _making good use_ of these chances, in his eyes, had hurt him.

Maybe seeing others his age failing after striving so much for success had hurt him, too.

xxx

They don’t have time for practice the next morning either, schedules packed with another full day of miscellaneous recording ahead. As they wake up (early, again, even after a late night of practice) and are informed so, Seongwoo vaguely worries that it would count as one day less of practice for the final stage. Day one hadn’t been as fruitful as he would have liked, one night of practice was nowhere near enough to catch up, and the mentors would visit in less than two days to check on their practice progress.

“We’ll practice some at night again”, Jonghyun reassures them with a shrug, as if reading Seongwoo’s mind. “They’ll probably want us to do so, anyway.”

His entire body aches from the forced exercise of the previous day, however, and for once Seongwoo is grateful all they’ll have to do that day is talk and look pretty, dressed casually for a change, much like how they had for their introductory videos.

The groups for recording are, once again, separated by class, and by now Seongwoo sticks close to Daniel as if on instinct, unwilling to make more than the necessary effort to interact away from the cameras.

Class A starts off by the most taxing recording sessions, which should a privilege in itself because it’s always better to do the most tiring activity first, then move on to the easier ones. Seongwoo, still too sore to consider that a privilege, makes it through inane questions and interviews that will probably be butchered and taken out of context for the sake of better ratings with a clear voice but droopy eyes; the smile always comes naturally, or as naturally as he _trained_ it to come off as.

They eat lunch (the meat is over before class B can even finish getting their food), and the entire staff hurries them along for their next activity. There was a degree of predictability as to what they were supposed to do, now, what they had yet to record; Seongwoo was willing to bet they would soon have the hidden box challenge or some similar dare to gain a few more privileges and appeal to voters.

That day, as the whispers spread around the dining hall grow louder, Seongwoo realizes it is something else entirely.

“Did you choose your visual pick already, hyung?”, Daniel asks him around a mouthful of rice, none too graceful. Seongwoo hums noncommittally, hopes Daniel won’t ask who, and looks into his plate as if he had just realized he was about to execute a very, very difficult task.

(“It’s not that hard, really”, Doyeon shrugged, eyes on her phone screen, frowning at the pictures of the contestants. “Just pick someone you think is good-looking.”

Seongwoo frowned, hands splayed over the table, itching to grab his phone back from her hands; Yoojung leaned closer to the other girl’s shoulder to peek at the screen as well. “Well, I don’t really _think_ of guys as good-looking. I—I wouldn’t know how to choose.”

A blatant lie; Yoojung narrowed her eyes and threw him a brief glare before looking back at the phone screen.

“There’s nothing wrong about finding someone good-looking”, she said, matter-of-factly, with a pinch of barely-concealed anger; Seongwoo wouldn’t know, really, he wasn’t as close to them as he’d sometimes wish he was. “No matter the gender.”

“But”, Seongwoo started carefully, words from high school times and before running through his mind ( _when you think a guy is good-looking, it’s because you’re jealous of him_ , one of his classmates had said, once, _you want to look like him. anything else would be a little weird, don’t you think?_ ), “I mean, I watched that part in _your_ show. When it’s about girls…”

“It should be the same as it is with guys”, Yoojung interrupted him again; _damn him and his “talk informally to me” rule that only applied to girls_ , Seongwoo cursed himself inwardly. “You think someone’s better-looking than anybody else, you pick him.”

Seongwoo pouted, hoping to finally get the girls’ attentions out of his phone. “I can’t pick myself, though.”

They didn’t laugh.

“Don’t be greedy”, Doyeon admonished him; for two kids, they certainly treated him like he was much younger. They were his _sunbaes,_ after all. “This is really only about visuals. You don’t have to _love_ that person, or even get along with them, to think they’re good-looking.”

Yoojung nodded, glaring at Seongwoo again. “Oppa, you’re making it sound like you have to feel any sort of _attraction_ towards the guy you pick, but… it’s not just about that.”

Doyeon pressed her lips together, sending Yoojung a look that almost made Seongwoo feel like he was intruding on a moment that did not belong to him. Yoojung effectively broke the incoming weird atmosphere by huffing and rolling her eyes, in apparent agreement with what Doyeon had tried to silently convey to her.

“ _Fine_ , it is, for some people”, she admitted. “But it doesn’t _have_ to be for you.”

Seongwoo tried to follow their reasoning; Daniel came first to his mind. He wasn’t _conventionally_ attractive in the way most idols were, with his broad body and innocent-looking face.

He thought about Haknyeon next. Small head, small face, proportions fitting to the standards people were obsessed with, these days. Maybe a little too conventional, and too lacking in every other aspect for Seongwoo to really take him into account.

Jihoon, as much of a kid as Haknyeon was in his eyes, was far from being an eyesore; Seongwoo had a feeling he would be a favorite.

It was growing increasingly harder to understand why he was so picky about something he could make an easy, popular choice about and get away with it without any backlash.

Yet, he pressed on. “You girls have heard of Nu’est, right?”

Doyeon looked at him like he’d just told them the sky is blue. “They’re the hottest contestants right now?” She frowned at herself, then corrected the sentence. “I mean that in a trending topic way. Not that they’re bad-looking, but—”

“Any thoughts on Hwang Minhyun?”, Seongwoo interrupted her; he was the one in charge of running his mouth, after all.

Yoojung hummed, while Doyeon still tried to recover from her awkward comment. “He’s the one with the eyes, right?”

“He’s handsome”, Doyeon shrugged. “Not as handsome as Ren oppa, though”, she added, showing Seongwoo his own phone screen, Minki’s official uniform-clad picture looking back at him. “I mean, that’s just my personal preference.”

“I like him too”, Yoojung agreed, smiling fondly at nothing in particular. “He really made my heart flutter when he had that long hair.”

“ _I know_ ”, Doyeon sighed; Seongwoo quickly snatched his phone back while they were distracted.

“So Hwang Minhyun doesn’t make your hearts flutter?”, he asked, promptly closing the browser, intimidated by Minki’s judgmental face even in pictures.

They looked at each other, then shrugged. “I guess not. But he’s good-looking enough to make someone else’s heart flutter, I guess”, Yoojung replied on their behalf.

Seongwoo avoided clutching at his chest. They didn’t have to know.)

xxx

“Please choose the picture of your visual pick and tells us why you chose him”, the director instructs Seongwoo as he enters the studio, blissfully alone (having anyone else know beforehand who was his pick would be too embarrassing) and searches the wall for the right picture. He tries to be quick, afraid of chickening out and changing his mind.

(“Hyung”, a familiar voice nearly startled Seongwoo into a heart attack, “are you looking at Nu’est sunbaenim’s pictures?”

In hindsight, it had been a bad idea to lounge by the practice rooms instead of staying at home, that day. Seongwoo had many regrets in his life, but risking getting caught – and _actually getting caught_ – by Jinwoo while browsing compromising pages on his phone was currently the biggest one.

“I’m not”, he denied meekly, groaning when the younger let out a low, gentle laugh before plopping by his side on the couch, still peeking at his screen curiously. Seongwoo, of course, indulged him, softer than what he had intended to be. He had to allow Jinwoo some breathing space to just be a _kid_ and not someone in charge of an entire group and their needs. “I was just—curious. About their debut date, it’s all.”

The tab remained open on a very blatant Naver search on Hwang Minhyun, specifically, but his comment was enough to divert Jinwoo’s attention for the time being.

“Ah, they’ve debuted a long time ago, hyung”, the younger explained innocently, still unaware that seongwoo had spent the last hour and a half reading up facts, fanaccounts, and even listening to _Hello_ on loop on Melon. “I think it was in 2012?, but they don’t look too old—?”

“They’re my age”, Seongwoo replied faster than he’d wished he had. “Most of them.”

Jinwoo nodded, the slightest frown forming on his face. “Oh. So they were, like…”, he stopped, staring down at his fingers, counting. “…Sanha’s age? That’s so young for a group. And they have so many nice songs.”

Seongwoo raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you listen to old boy groups?”

The younger shrugged, smiling down at his hands. “We watch and listen to lots of things for inspiration, hyung. And since when do you search for pictures of other guys on the internet?”

Seongwoo immediately locked his screen and dropped his phone on the couch, mortified. Jinwoo laughed, not unkindly, before patting the elder’s back. “I can’t blame you, though. Minhyun sunbaenims is a really handsome guy.”

“Don’t say these things”, Seongwoo scolded him weakly, but it went ignored.

“Wait—“, Jinwoo frowned again, his tone still good-humored, “is he still a sunbaenim, if he’s back at being a trainee with you, now? Should I call him _hyung_? I mean, we’re not even close, but—"

“Jinwoo”, Seongwoo brought the younger back from his reverie, why do you think he’s handsome?”

Jinwoo paused, placing a hand on his chin, deep in thought for a moment before he started speaking again; Seongwoo had always appreciated the younger’s slow, steady pace when he talked, articulate and thought-out. He always avoided speaking any ill of other people, careful and considerate of their feelings, maybe a little too kind for his own good.

A lot like Daniel, Seongwoo thought – and, much like Daniel, Jinwoo was the kind of person Seongwoo could only ever dream of becoming.

“I think it’s in his eyes”, Jinwoo said, at last, humming to himself. “He has kind eyes—the type that makes you feel at ease when you look at them, you know?”

Seongwoo nodded, gingerly picking his phone back up off the couch.

“I don’t know much about him – I don’t even listen to Nu’est _that much_ ”, he added, grinning at himself. “But from the few times I’ve met them, they seemed like good people and treated us nicely. That always makes people better-looking, too.”

They fell silent; after a few moments thinking his friend’s words over, Seongwoo turned to him. “Do I treat you nicely, Jinjinnie?”

Jinwoo threw his head back in laughter, leaning closer to Seongwoo for support. “If you wanted to be complimented you just had to ask, hyung.”)

“Hwang Minhyun.”

The studio lights are blinding and burning hot. Despite it being cold outside, it feels too warm under the scrutiny of the crew, and Seongwoo has to hold himself back from wiping his sweaty hands on his pants, holding Minhyun’s picture firmly between them.

For a moment, all he sees in front of him are scornful stares, the agonizing sensation that he is baring himself before a crowd of monsters, that he unwittingly let on more than he had intended through his eyes or the softness of his voice. Seongwoo doesn’t dare turn the picture around, doesn’t risk having Minhyun look at him with the same disgust he feels for himself during those few seconds before everything blurs back to normal; he controls his breathing a beat before his anxiety becomes noticeable.

_It’s not just about attraction._

_(It is, for some people.)_

The PD lets out a chuckle, nods at him and asks him why; it’s much less terrifying than the scenario played out in his mind the seconds before he actually spoke. Seongwoo offers him a practiced shrug, buying himself time as he tries to chase words in his head to explain, always falling short of finding a good explanation.

_“So Hwang Minhyun doesn’t make your hearts flutter?”_

_The girls shrugged. “I guess not.”_

“I think he has a face that will make girls’ hearts flutter.”

 (it’s not a lie; he does seem to be quite popular, even if his brand of visuals wasn’t exactly appealing to the two girls Seongwoo felt comfortable talking about him)

Thankfully, they don’t press him further for a more elaborate explanation.

“Funny that you picked him”, the PD comments, never commanding him to leave his spot; Seongwoo stays still, smile trained at the camera, the Minhyun picture still firm in his hands. “Minhyun-ssi also happens to have picked you.”

Seongwoo’s smile widens; another practiced gesture, which is followed by light laughter, the words _why me_ echoing in his brain, now fully alert again for a new reason. “Did he?”, he asks, careful not to overdo the pleased surprise he manages to force out of his mouth. The PD confirms, and he holds back a completely spontaneous giddy laughter.

The rest of the recording goes by like a big happy blur, and once he’s out of the studio, Seongwoo starts to think things are about to follow a dangerous path.

He has to put a stop to his thoughts.

xxx

He doesn’t put a stop to his thoughts.

In fact, he makes things worse – the first thing he tells Minhyun the moment they meet again for practice is a whispered “So I heard I’m your visual pick”, a notch or two too smug.

It earns him an embarrassed glare which lasts for about two seconds before Minhyun remembers to quip back, “Well, and I’m yours. What does that make us?”

Seongwoo shrugs, glancing sideways at Jaehwan and pretending to be terribly interested in whatever he’s whispering to Jonghyun. “People with… good taste?”

Minhyun lets out a _huh_ at that, and Seongwoo doesn’t need to look to know he’s raising an eyebrow.

“I mean, I can’t insult myself over my own choices, now, can I?”, he tries to reason, this time turning to look up at Minhyun.

(he resents the few centimeters Minhyun has on him; there’s something very unsettling about being looked down upon as gently as someone like Minhyun does)

When Minhyun says nothing, still clearly amused, Seongwoo effectively runs his mouth. “I couldn’t just pick myself, either—that would have reflected badly on the viewers.”

“Ah”, Minhyun agrees, not exactly disappointed nor even remotely surprised by his answer. “It's still nice to know I’m second best.”

“Hey, you ranked higher than I did”, Seongwoo retorts, a little too bitterly. “But—”

Minhyun scowls at him. “I hope you’re not gonna ask me why I picked you again.”

“Nah”, Seongwoo reassures him nonchalantly, “that’s established, already, you have good taste.”

“And why did you pick me?”

The question catches Seongwoo off-guard; he splutters, groans indignantly when Minhyun chuckles at his reaction, takes almost too long trying to get himself together.

“You can’t tell me not to ask you something and then ask me this exact same thing! That’s not—not how it works”, he protests, voice growing steadily weaker as he speaks.

Minhyun laughs again, patting his shoulder before walking past him. “I was joking. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

All Seongwoo can do is watch the other man’s retreating back, still unsure whether to feel grateful or _defeated_ by that conversation.

(it’s not like he has a concrete answer to Minhyun’s, question, anyway)

xxx

They make fantastic progress on the following days.

By _they_ , Seongwoo mostly means himself, Daniel, and Jaehwan. Minhyun and Jonghyun, despite their lower ranks, had great proficiency at synchronizing their moves with the others’, and seemed to know the dance by heart. There wasn’t much room for improvement, so they use up most of their time helping the others.

Namely, Hyunbin.

Seongwoo had mostly given up on trying to offer any help to Hyunbin – there was _something_ going on with him, his formerly steady pace slowing itself out to a drag, his droopy eyes closing on their own more often than not, something of a _tired_ aura that surrounded him wherever they went as a team.

(the same tired aura Minhyun had, the evening they first talked, the one that _never happened._ Seongwoo is well aware of what happened afterwards)

 _This won’t end well_ , Seongwoo thinks, and even tells Daniel in secret when Jonghyun and Minhyun leave to look for Hyunbin back in the dorms during a particularly strenuous afternoon of practice. Daniel agrees, not verbally at the time, too kind-hearted to speak his thoughts; by their side, Jaehwan practices his footwork, eyes on the mirror, trying to match his steps to the rhythm, mimicking Jonghyun’s demonstration earlier that day until he was satisfied enough with the result.

It doesn’t end well, but it’s not because of Seongwoo’s obvious prediction.

The day Jaesung evaluates their performance is a very frustrating day, overall, with the bad attitude from the other team leader, who picked on _Daniel_ , of all people, and Hyunbin’s inability to keep up with the choreography. Seongwoo finds it hard to understand what’s keeping Hyunbin from _learning_ – it’s not just that he’s a slow learner, he reasons, because Hyunbin managed to stabilize his voice into something akin to _singing_ pretty fast when they practiced their vocals, but something in his constant tiredness gets on Seongwoo’s nerves.

(“Don’t be unfair”, Minhyun scolded him when he caught Seongwoo sighing in annoyance as Hyunbin left practice yet another time to fix his contact lenses, and probably catch another nap while at it. “He’s doing what he can.”

“Doesn’t seem like he is, though”, Seongwoo quipped back, frowning at Hyunbin’s retreating form. “No one likes lazy people.”

Minhyun scoffed, turning away not to have to look at Seongwoo again. “I wish it was just laziness, Seongwoo.”)

They get scolded; for the most part, the one who takes the brunt of it is Jonghyun, for his responsibility as a leader, and Seongwoo can’t help but feel sorry for him, having watched his (and Minhyun’s) efforts to teach Hyunbin before that day came. Despite the outcome of their evaluation being generally positive, both for their performance overall and for Jonghyun’s leadership skills and bravery to take responsibility for Hyunbin’s mishap, their mood is gloomy when they return to the practice room.

The other team, with the exception of their youngest, Seonho, who for some reason keeps on walking over to talk to Minhyun (Seongwoo thinks he overhears something about how _Minki hyung always talks about Minhyun hyung_ , but he’s not paying that much attention; he swears he’s not), mostly leaves them alone and retreats to their share of the room. Hyunbin looks like he’s making an effort not to cry in front of them, but Seongwoo also thinks it might be his contacts irritating his eyes again.

They mindlessly get into formation to go over the choreography one more time; it’s easy, now, for Seongwoo to fall into somewhat of a _unity_ mindset, almost fully in sync with Daniel, with whom he practices the most, something close to that with Jaehwan, despite the stiffness that comes from the younger’s lack of experience in dancing, intrusive thoughts thrown into the void for the duration of the song. There is a lot to focus on during the dance itself.

His feet.

(Minki’s crying face, back in the Pick Me rehearsal; Seongwoo’s stomach sinking at the sight, angry at himself for pitying the other man when the last thing he had wanted to see in Minhyun’s face was that very feeling)

His voice and breathing.

(the crying boy, back at their very first evaluation, overwhelmed by anxiety and the weight of his young age; Seongwoo had turned away from that specific sight, relieved that hadn’t been him when he was a mess of nerves, himself. Dongbin could blame it on his young age and lack of experience, but what could Seongwoo have blamed, if not his own faulty brain?)

His posture and facial expression in the mirror.

(Hong Eunki and the guy everyone called Jung Jung, dancing together instead of _against_ each other, looking into each other’s eyes as if they were the only other person in the world for each other, the sheer emotional impact of such a romantic performance between two men too overwhelming for Seongwoo to even _think_ about it, to this day—)

“Ouch—hyung, watch your step!”

Daniel’s voice snaps him back of his reverie; the entire group stops dancing, glancing curiously at the two of them. Seongwoo stops, a beat too late, and realizes his honest mistake when he sees Daniel, jumping on one foot as he clutches the other.

_Damn you, intrusive thoughts._

“Are you guys okay?”, Jaehwan asks, walking up to Daniel to support him before he falls flat on his butt. He stares at Seongwoo and frowns. “You look constipated, hyung. Do you need a break?”

“No”, Seongwoo reassures him, mildly annoyed at his cheekiness, but not too inclined to scold him for that. “Sorry. Got distracted.” He pats Daniel’s shoulder apologetically. “Sorry about that.”

Daniel nods in understanding. “It’s okay, hyung. But maybe we do need a break.”

“We don’t have _time_ for a break”, Seongwoo retorts, chancing a glance at Minhyun through the mirror. He’s not looking at any of them, watching Hyunbin in concern instead as the boy looks closer and closer to tearing up. By his side, Jonghyun looks back at Seongwoo through the mirror, looking as concerned as Minhyun; having this kind of attention from Jonghyun on him makes Seongwoo feel a little too small, and so he looks away from the mirror, back at Daniel, decidedly a much safer zone.

He half-expects Jonghyun to speak up, either agreeing with him about their little time or calling for a break. Minhyun, however, beats their leader to it.

“Maybe instead of a break, we could play a little game”, Minhyun suggests, pulling Hyunbin closer to the group by the sleeve. “Something to keep you guys motivated. What do you say?”

Seongwoo doesn’t like how Minhyun is smiling (hooded eyes, the corners of his mouth pulled up a little higher than his usual controlled smiles, the slightest hint of _mischief_ permeating his words), and he thinks he likes his proposal even less. It’s not the time to play around.

“What kind of game?”, Jaehwan asks, completely ignoring Seongwoo’s thoughts ( _how dare he_ ) and releasing a less pained Daniel from his grip.

“One with a reward”, the elder replies, slowly guiding Hyunbin to stand in front of the mirror. “Let’s do the footwork over, together. Whoever gets it right from beginning to end gets a reward.”

“That doesn’t _sound_ fun”, Jaehwan whines, tired at the mere thought of having to _move_ to win the game.

“What kind of reward are we talking about?”, Daniel asks at the same time, smiling eagerly and puppy-like at Minhyun.

Minhyun’s smile widens. “That’s a secret. But I promise it’s gonna be a fun one.”

Hyunbin looks at Jonghyun through the mirror, conflicted and slightly suspicious; all the elder does is shrug and smile one of his cryptic smiles Seongwoo can never tell the true meaning behind ( _is it “I’m too kind to swear at you” or “I’m murdering you with my eyes right now”, or even “I may look sweet but these hands bear the brunt, bitter weight of defeat and you’re about to taste them”?_ ).

They’re doomed, and Seongwoo has no idea why the five of them are shrugging and agreeing with the idea, anyway. _What kind of spell this guy has over us?_ , he wonders, almost out loud (but he manages to shut himself up before another mishap happens)

They get in position, and the song starts again.

“Focus on your feet”, Minhyun tells them. “We’ll make it more complex as the game goes on.”

And so they do.

It’s easier, this time – looking at his feet, the only distracting thought more of a form of motivation rather than an actual distraction ( _just what the hell is this guy about to do to us?_ ). There is no time to glance sideways, and so he has little to no idea how the others are doing from his peripheral vision. For some reason he has yet to figure out, Seongwoo actually wants to _do well_ on that little game, despite knowing he doesn’t need that much focus for a part of the dance he already has down to a tee.

He takes a deep breath once the song is over, not looking at the others just yet; Minhyun’s monotonous (practiced, so very _practiced_ and yet so terribly stilted) laughter reaches his ears before anyone else’s voice does.

“Good job, Hyunbin”, he compliments their youngest, who finally has the slightest hint of a smile on his face. “I knew you could do it. See, it’s not so hard when you only focus on one thing at a time, now, is it?”

_Oh._

So _that_ was what it was about.

“I really did it”, Hyunbin repeats, awed at himself. He looks down at Minhyun, much like yet another overly eager puppy. “What’s the reward, hyung?”

“Close your eyes”, the elder instructs him; all the others can do is watch as Hyunbin does as he is told and Minhyun shoots them a (terrible, in Seongwoo’s humble opinion) wink, placing his index finger in front of his lips in a quiet request for them not to say anything.

It happens as if in slow motion, at least to Seongwoo; he had no idea Minhyun was actually _capable_ of pranking people to that level, and it’s impossible to hold back his own scream (mixed with the others’, with the exception of Jonghyun, who looks mildly bemused but also straining not to smile) when Minhyun stands on the tips of his toes and places a loud, wet kiss on Hyunbin’s cheek.

Jaehwan and Daniel downright _holler_ ; Hyunbin lets out a scream, too, but he’s laughing when Minhyun lets him go, throwing his arms around Minhyun in sheer childish joy. Jonghyun, more composed than the five of them together, barely rolls his eyes at the scene.

Seongwoo _thinks_ he screams, but when he feels the palm of Daniel’s overly warm hand touch his chin and pull it upwards, he realizes he had only opened his mouth, maybe a little too wide.

“Thought your jaw was gonna drop to the floor”, the younger cheekily tells him, seemingly recovered from the scene that had just unfolded before their eyes.

“If I knew this was gonna be the reward”, Hyunbin says once he recovers, arms still around Minhyun’s shoulders, “I’d have messed it up.”

“C’mon, didn’t you like it?”, Minhyun jokes back at him, too pleased with himself. “Look at you, you just wanted a big hug and kiss from your hyung, didn’t you?”

They laugh, playing around with each other; Seongwoo looks away, something about that moment bothering him more than he thinks it should.

Jaehwan and Daniel stop laughing and share a look. Seongwoo also regrets the curiosity that seeps into his bones when they seem to nod at each other in a silent agreement before they turn to Minhyun.

“Hyung”, Jaehwan says determinedly. “I didn’t mess up my steps. I want my reward.”

Daniel nods in vehement agreement. “Me too, me too. I did everything right.”

It’s Jonghyun’s turn to laugh at Minhyun’s dumbfounded face.

“What—do you mean it? This round was—”

“We won this round, too”, Daniel insists, looking way too solemn for that situation. Seongwoo half wants to laugh at them, half wants to holler at Minhyun’s mistake. “Give us our kisses, hyung.”

Minhyun presses his lips together, looking at the duo like they’d just grown a second head. “Usually no one _asks_ for my kisses, but”, he pauses, stares at Jaehwan and then at Daniel, then shrugs, “if you insist... Close your eyes.”

They get their kisses; Seongwoo watches in mild disgust while Jonghyun placidly smiles at the entire situation. When their eyes meet, Seongwoo mouths at him _aren’t you gonna ask for yours_ , to which Jonghyun responds with a shrug of his own and a _don’t have to_ mouthed back at him.

(there are solid reasons for the mild disgust; you don’t go around kissing people you’re barely friends with on the face, and you don’t do that with _guys_ , either—his stomach flips, and he knows that’s not all this is about. It’s not any twisted form of jealousy, either, he tells himself as his eyes zero in on Minhyun’s lips, softer than they had looked days ago, yet still too pale, maybe from eating too little, maybe out of exhaustion. They have a pretty shape, he thinks before he can stop himself, the cupid bow standing out almost in a pout, his bottom lip also slightly jutting out, _kind of like the Zoolander look but—but prettier_ , and really, at this point Seongwoo has given up on proper word choices.

Minhyun has pretty lips. He can admit that much to himself.

anything else is off limits)

“Hey, I—“, Seongwoo pauses, eyes widening to mirror Minhyun’s when he stares at him in surprise (and mild panic, if the way his head whipped around to face him is anything to go by), “I won, too. What about my reward,”

 _Don’t_ , the cautious, Minhyun-like voice in his head warns him.

Seongwoo, for once, ignores his thoughts.

“ _Minhyunie?_ ”

He pouts, to add greater effect to the nickname, too sincere to sound mocking but still getting a laugh out of the younger ones.

(He ignores Jonghyun’s alarmed look, for the time being)

(he’s no longer thinking)

“Are you sure?”, Minhyun asks him carefully, stepping closer until they are facing each other.

( _you still have time to bail out_ , the voice insists)

(he’s no longer thinking)

“Uh, yeah?”, he replies nonchalantly; the tips of Minhyun’s red ears look even cuter up close.

Minhyun’s eyes find his; _they do look kind_ , Seongwoo notices, fighting the temptation to smooth over the other man’s frown with his thumbs. Minhyun is the first to look away, either too flustered or satisfied with whatever he found in Seongwoo. “Close your eyes”, he commands him quietly.

The atmosphere suddenly grows thicker, the silence almost overwhelming. It takes a few seconds for Seongwoo to realize the room wasn’t really silent, but the rush of blood through his body, the pounding of his heart, were all too deafening.

He closes his eyes.

(he’s no longer thinking)

( _he smells so nice_ )

Seongwoo’s eyes snap open the moment he feels Minhyun’s warm breath on his cheek, the sudden closeness all too real, regret washing over him like an angry wave on a stormy ocean.

“Wait—“, he tries to warn Minhyun (he thinks he tries, anyway), turning to his side to face the other boy ( _what are you doing???_ , all the alarms in his brain ring at once), but, for the second time that day, he’s a beat too late, and all he feels as he is abruptly interrupted are Minhyun’s lips on his.

It barely lasts; Minhyun pulls away the moment he realizes his lips did _not_ touch the originally intended area, and Seongwoo recoils as if he had been burned.

(it lasts an eternity in his mind, every detail played out as if in slow motion: Minhyun’s eyes, as wide as his, staring back at him, the confirmed softness of those lips on his, their cheeks briefly touching before they escaped each other

 _more_ , a part of Seongwoo begs as he tries to push himself as physically far from Minhyun as he can; he ignores that voice, all the others screaming on top of it much louder, much more disturbing)

When the world starts moving again, there is loud, loud laughter; someone’s arm is thrown over his shoulders, patting him a little too hard, and Seongwoo belatedly realizes it’s Daniel, wiping a tear from his eyes and leaning on him not to fall to the floor.

Jaehwan, by their side, isn’t doing much better; Jonghyun is the only onlooker who’s not laughing.

“Looks like someone got more than what they asked for”, Jaehwan quips when he finally stops laughing that scary laughter of his.

“Sorry about that. You caught me by surprise”, Minhyun says quietly, looking anywhere but at Seongwoo; his ears aren’t the only part of him that’s blushing now, and Seongwoo would be a little endeared at the reddened skin of his neck and cheeks if he wasn’t too busy fending off a flurry of unwanted feelings that threatened to break yet another dam.

The last time he let it happen, he ended up crying in a bathroom stall.

(acknowledging the issue for what it was remained out of bounds, especially in front of Minhyun)

The other boys, with the exception of Jonghyun, start humming the wedding march, and Seongwoo has half a heart to throw hands at them before Minhyun effectively shuts them up with something much better, burying for once what had just happened so skillfully Seongwoo _almost_ believes he can, in fact, act.

“So how about I promise to treat you all for barbecue next week if you do well on the next rounds, instead?”

 _Well,_ Seongwoo’s entire body seems to reason, _I can function at a productive rate a little longer for some free meat._

And it stops, just as it comes.

xxx

“Minhyun and I are gonna shower together”, Jonghyun tells them when Daniel leaves their shared bathroom with a towel thrown over his head. “Saves us time and we can go to sleep earlier.”

There is a pause before the others slowly nod in agreement; Daniel, struggling to keep his eyes open, barely seems to register what Jonghyun says before he disappears into the bathroom with a slightly dumbfounded Minhyun in tow.

Seongwoo’s stomach dropped to the ground long ago, but he pretends to still have it together.

Once they hear the shower water running, Jaehwan turns to the others. “Is that, uh, normal?”

Hyunbin shrugs. “They didn’t do it before. I won’t judge, anyway. Maybe Jonghyun hyung is jealous…?”

Jaehwan nods, crawling to his bunk. “Yeah, I won’t judge, either. Maybe they need some alone time…?”

“What the hell are you two even talking about”, Seongwoo deadpans from his bunk, feeling suddenly cold despite the warmth radiating from their room’s heater.

Jaehwan throws his blanket over his body, only allowing his head to peek out of it. “Didn’t you see…? They’re taking a shower _together_.”

“To save time”, Daniel reasons. “That’s… sustainability, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know”, Hyunbin frowns, climbing to his own bed. “Today was pretty intense. Jonghyun hyung could use blowing off some steam.”

Seongwoo decides to tune them out before he gets the wrong idea; he would be the one at fault if there _really_ was something going on with Minhyun and Jonghyun.

(he kind of hopes there’s nothing going on between Minhyun and Jonghyun)

(but that’s the part of his brain that doesn’t count)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter songs:
> 
> placebo - special k, the title song  
> aqours - daydream warrior (permeates the entire fic, soundtrack-wise, but was specially fitting for this chapter)  
> the beatles - i want to tell you (sometimes I wish I knew you well/then I could speak my mind and tell you/maybe you'd understand)  
> brahms - subtext is deadly


	7. interlude: when i cannot sing my heart, i can only speak my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> current threat level is silver
> 
>  
> 
> nothing is your fault, so far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some outside perspective.
> 
> this is a rewrite of the chapter that was posted back in february, with a few crucial changes to the final dialogue. please don't kill me, they said what they said for a reason and character development through introduction to new perspectives is a thing ~_~

_(And you are a good leader,_ Minhyun continued, never taking his eyes off the eldest, _you’ve taken care of all of us well. Stop blaming yourself so much for things that absolutely aren’t your fault._

_We need you to be a leader again if we wanna make it through this,_ Minki said, pulling at Jonghyun’s hand that he had been holding since Minhyun had no idea when. _But being a leader doesn’t mean you have to carry all the burdens of the group alone._

_Would you start sharing them with us if we ask you to, from now on?,_ Minhyun asked, still trying to meet Jonghyun’s eyes; he still refused to look up, a crimson blush rising to his cheeks.

They pretended not to notice the water in his eyes.

_Of course I would.)_

xxx

At this point in his life, Jonghyun was pretty much used to being underestimated by outsiders.

Even during the first days of recording, when their combined failure ultimately dragged him down along with his bandmates-turned-labelmates for the time being, holding back frustration and tears of shame at having to perform in front of a long-time mentor who had seen so much _potential_ in them, years ago, none of the judges had paid him much attention before throwing him into the same bunch of D ranks that only Minhyun had saved himself from. It wasn’t something that happened often to the likes of Minhyun, whose stable front was much more of a solid wall than Jonghyun’s, or even to Minki and Dongho on a good day, not exactly for the same reason as Minhyun but because of the way they carried themselves; the poise, the exuberance in every move, the silent call for attention in their very observant eyes.

(Aron was different; Aron was older, was much more like him, gently pushing the younger ones forward and allowing himself the brief respite of the shadows; he would often push Jonghyun into the light, never denying him the authority of _leadership_ but allowing him to _be a kid_ , for once, to not worry about everything and nothing in their permanent limbo of uncertainty)

Jonghyun did not exactly _envy_ them; he had never liked having the spotlight on himself that much and felt much happier watching the others bask in the compliments and attention from the sidelines, gently guiding his group through promotion after promotion after unexpected illness after nightmare in Japan after desperate last-pitch promotion. That was how things were; even in their final decision to join _Produce 101_ , he was aware that he would never be a pick as popular as the other three, despite their insistence on having _him_ as their fixed pick on team activities.

Having the world underestimate him was fine, really; they often came to regret their decision, if the orange sweatshirt currently clinging to his sweaty back was anything to go by. He did dislike the idea of only shining when _alone_ ; shining as a group would have brought him – would have brought _them_ so much farther.

_We wouldn’t need to be here_ , he would often think on lonelier nights, whenever he wanted to chance a feel at the weight of the guilt on his shoulders that had been crushing him for much longer than he was ever willing to acknowledge.

(he knows that _everyone knows_ he intends to bear the brunt of guilt himself if things do go awry for them; he knows what they think of it, how they think they won’t let it happen, how they think he’s _wrong_ to take the blame all to himself. There is much to be said and discussed about _who_ is really at fault, given their situation, but not much that can be _done_ about the fingers pointed and misplaced blaming; he would rather let himself perish than let them take the fall with him if push ever came to shove)

It was _not_ fine, though, he reminded himself harshly before any other thoughts could invade his mind and ruin his brittle focus when there was so much practice time left to dance through, to be underestimated by those he loved the most.

Namely, Hwang Minhyun.

What started out innocently – _Minhyunie has a crush_ , he remembers cooing jokingly at his friend, mostly to get on Minki’s nerves – turned out to not be _that_ innocent. Love interests were hardly a matter they discussed much in their daily lives, too busy to give the subject proper thought or to actually try to find someone compatible with their current lifestyle, regardless of how many months they had spent inactive.

(that, and Aron had pretty much banned them from discussing the subject in his presence. _No Sujin talk_ , were his specific words, but they’d never dare risk anything else)

Crushes came and went, and even Jonghyun had had a few of his own – it was easier for him to be open about it, and the reasons were simple enough when one is in the more privileged spectrum of romantic and sexual orientations. Understandably so, it had taken much longer for Minhyun – much longer for him to even _come out_ to them, and a little longer for everyone to fully accept it – perhaps not fully understand – that liking boys didn’t make him some sort of untouchable _alien_.

(granted, Minki had never thought that of Minhyun. Life went on like it always had for them, even after his reveal. It didn’t take Jonghyun long to figure out _why_ )

Crushes came and went and nothing was done about them most of the time; it was just unrealistic to think they could afford the privilege of dating someone when–and Jonghyun _hates_ to phrase it like that– when they hadn’t even _made it big_ yet. It didn’t help that they barely saw other people besides each other and general staff and labelmates on their daily routine.

No one had worried much about being stuck with ninety-something other boys for six months – some had no reason to worry, really, Minki was all bark and no bite, and Minhyun…

Jonghyun _might_ have worried a little about Minhyun, at first, trying to put himself on his friend’s place before his higher rank at their evaluation further proved Minhyun would _never_ lead himself astray when the three of them – the _four_ of them – needed him at his best so badly.

_I was a bad leader,_ he had thought, disappointed in his own lack of faith in one of the people he had trusted the most for so many years. _It’s no news, really,_ came the intrusive thought he never bothered shooing away.

As time passed, he soon came to realize that what he deemed to be his own bad judgement clouding his thoughts might actually have had some truth to it.

Watching Minhyun struggle – watching _all of them_ _struggle_ , but especially Minhyun, the _one_ among the group who had been just the right amount of stable to hard carry them through practices and even during their evaluation performance – pained Jonghyun. Blaming it on only one thing or another when the obvious truth was that it had been only a matter of time before he crumbled as well would be unfair, but Jonghyun didn’t really think it was wrong to suspect _external influences_.

One very specific external influence, at that.

The confirmation for his suspicions didn’t come the moment their first competing team was formed; they had settled for those exact picks and Minhyun had been faithful to everything they had planned together. It didn’t come when they decided on leader and center for their presentation, although Jonghyun could see right through Minhyun’s _other_ agenda that comes into play the moment he pitches his name for the _leader_ position.

(Jonghyun tries not to see it as yet _another burden_ ; Minhyun’s intentions are obvious, as is the intent behind his constant praise and helpfulness in making Jonghyun be heard when he needs to guide their team.

It doesn’t mean Jonghyun will let Minhyun get away with it so easily.)

Confirmation comes much later, as he watches hushed whispering, tell-tale crimson ear tips and fidgeting hands, the way their eyes just linger on each other that they don’t even notice Jonghyun’s own glare in their direction, patiently waiting for the two of them to take their positions and _begin practice_.

It doesn’t really take someone as observant as Jonghyun, he thinks, to suspect there’s something up when a silly game Minhyun comes up with to cheer up their youngest in the team (another headache altogether, but one that feels so much _easier_ to deal with than whatever Minhyun is bringing upon himself) goes awry and puts him in an awkward spot with the object of his affections himself – a certain Ong Seongwoo ( _not Hong, not Gong, not Ung Seongwoo_ , Jonghyun _knows_ ). Jonghyun’s own thoughts on Seongwoo – quick-witted and skilled but a bit too cocky for his own good, testing even _Jonghyun’s_ own endless patience – come into play on his reasoning; Minhyun was a risk taker, after all.

A risk taker, he was, for sure, but never one to blindly dive into whichever adventure calling he felt like answering. Everything Minhyun ultimately decided to do was well thought out, carefully considered. He wasn’t one who lived with regrets over _not_ having tried or done something, but rather someone who preferred to follow his wiser instincts and face the consequences of a negative outcome with a clear conscience that he had at least _tried_.

Jonghyun knows all that. He tends to trust Minhyun and his decisions, aware that his friend and partner for so long had always been as observant as he was. This time, he knows Minhyun isn’t really calculating the length of his leap, too careless, too vulnerable and open to someone they’d barely known for a _month_.

_it almost sounds like you’re jealous_ , Aron had told him over Kakaotalk after a long-winded and badly pieced together rant Jonghyun had sent him during the little time they were allowed to keep their phones _and_ use the internet. _Let Minhyunie make friends, make some yourself, too. You guys are supposed to grow stronger and trust each other while you’re in there._

It wasn’t an underserved scolding, Jonghyun thought when he reread his own message, rushed and somewhat too angry at both Minhyun and Seongwoo. Granted, Aron wasn’t there to witness with his own eyes what Jonghyun saw every day, but it was wise of him to not trust the only report he had on the situation so far – Jonghyun’s negatively-biased one.

He would have time to properly talk to Aron on the phone once they were done with recordings for the week (once their fate had been partially decided).

For now, Jonghyun had to make sure Minhyun’s leap wouldn’t bring him too close to the sun.

xxx

“You’re being a little rough”, Minhyun complains, trying to keep his voice mild despite Jonghyun’s ministrations inside their cramped shared stall. “Are you—are you mad at me?”

Jonghyun shakes his head, pulls Minhyun’s head further down. “No”, he replies simply, tone deceptively gentle. “Stay still. You’ll make a mess if you don’t.”

“It’s not that easy to—” Minhyun gasps as the water runs down his face, threatening to enter his nostrils, his mouth; Jonghyun’s fingers never loosen their grip on his wet strands. “You don’t have to—” a gasp, followed by a particularly hard tug, interrupts his thoughts. “You don’t have to do this for me, you know.”

“I know”, comes the reply; Jonghyun cards his fingers through Minhyun’s hair, rinsing the excess shampoo foam. “Just let me take care of you.”

“This doesn’t feel”, Minhyun gurgles and more water invades his mouth; he splutters, but Jonghyun barely lets him lift his head for air. “This doesn’t feel like taking care—feels like you’re trying to drown me.”

Jonghyun says nothing for a moment; he has the perfect comeback at the tip of his tongue, the weight of the leader sticker still heavy on his chest, burning years and years of silent frustration and a constant sensation of _falling short_ into his skin.

He ultimately decides not to retaliate. Minhyun had the best intentions, he knows.

Minhyun fills up the silence again when Jonghyun’s hands still against his scalp. “But you didn’t just drag me here to aggressively wash my hair.”

“I didn’t”, Jonghyun nods, disentangling his fingers from the taller male’s silky dark strands. “I wanted to ask you”, he continues carefully, sensibly, one hand sliding down the slope of Minhyun’s neck to land on his shoulder, solid and warm, “if you’re alright.”

Water runs hot between them, not quite scalding but enough to make their skin flush different shades of red; the view is nothing they’re not used to, yet their gazes dart away from each others’ bodies respectfully as they talk. The stall is too small to fit two grown men, their skins always touching somewhere whenever one of them moved. It’s a tense atmosphere, but Jonghyun knows it’s not because of their current closeness. They hadn’t done this much before, and it certainly would not become a habit even during their teammate days, but both of them knew they felt comfortable enough around each other to share these oddly intimate-but-not-quite moments, the casual touching nothing more than that to them – _casual_.

“I am”, Minhyun limits himself to replying, slowly lifting his head again when he no longer feels the touch of Jonghyun’s hands on it. “A little tired, a little sore, very embarrassed, but I’m fine, really—”

Jonghyun smiles up at him, unintentionally shutting down the incoming rambling, then calmly shakes his head; Minhyun’s mouth remains agape, as if his words were still stuck, trying to come out. “I can see right through you, you know.”

Minhyun looks away and lets out a garbled laugh (a non-robotic, off-beat clash of noises that come from both his mouth and nose). “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t”, Jonghyun quips back, the same easy smile playing on his lips; he briefly pushes Minhyun out of under the showerhead to rinse his own hair. “You did a lot of… interesting stuff this week. I’m sure none of that was intentional.

“Pushing me for leadership, hyping up Seongwoo-ssi”, he continues, voice growing increasingly amused despite him knowing Minhyun knew better. “Kissing Seongwoo-ssi--”

“That was an _accident_ ”, Minhyun tries to correct him in vain.

Jonghyun laughs, voice charged with humor. “—I didn’t take you to be that daring, Hwang Minhyun—”

“Stop teasing me!”

Their shoulders bump when Minhyun jerks away from him almost frantically, which only gauges more laughter from Jonghyun. It’s rare to see Minhyun lose his composure like that when he was often the one doing the teasing and always one to laugh things off, but as much as Jonghyun wants to savor the moment and have a little more fun at his close friend’s expense, he knows their time in the showers is short and the more noise they make, the more likely everyone else is to get the wrong ideas.

Not that he’s going to correct them if they do, anyway.

“Okay, sorry”, he apologizes, something warm filling his chest at Minhyun’s pouty face and crimson ears. “But why are you freaking out about it? You’re always kissing people. What makes this different, aside from, you know, smooching him square on the m—”

“I thought you were gonna stop teasing me”, Minhyun cuts him off, slapping his chest with a hand that immediately flies to his own face, rubbing away the excess water that keeps getting on his eyes.

“I’m not teasing you”, Jonghyun prods, smile fading into a neutral, straight line. “Did you enjoy it?”

Minhyun opens his mouth to admonish him again, but stops when he notices the sudden change in Jonghyun’s tone and demeanor. He sighs, knowing better than to argue, and _there it is_ , Jonghyun thinks as his friend finally _breaks_.

“Look—It’s not about whether I enjoyed it or not”, Minhyun starts, looking anywhere but at Jonghyun. “I didn’t want it to happen with him— _the rational part of me didn’t_ , at least—"

Ah.

_Jonghyun one, Minki zero._

He allows Minhyun’s rambling to continue.

“—we have… history. Not _that_ kind of history, dumbass! It’s just… I really promised not to tell anyone what happened, and we’ve been on a sort of _truce_ ever since I picked him for our team—”

Jonghyun’s stare at him hardens, going from surprised at his unexpected victory to suspicious in a matter of seconds. Minhyun swallows and continues talking before the older can beat him to it.

“Get your mind off the gutter, Jonghyun, I didn’t fuck him or anything like that”, he mutters, face going red in a way that would be endearing to Jonghyun if not for the subject at that moment. “It’s just… it was a very vulnerable moment for him, and maybe for me, too, and he asked me not to tell anyone. But I just sort of did it, didn’t I?” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair to pull back his fringe before more water can hit his eyes. “No one was supposed to know _Ong Seongwoo’s weaknesses_.”

That comes off bitterer than Minhyun had probably intended, and Jonghyun frowns at the tone. “Do you _like_ him or not? I’m honestly not sure what to make of what you just said.”

Minhyun groans. “I have no opinion of him.”

Jonghyun isn’t convinced. “Wasn’t he your visual pick?”

“I have no opinion of him other than that he’s handsome”, Minhyun corrects his statement.

“You told him he was _the funniest_ during practice just yesterday”, Jonghyun presses on. “While laughing and slapping at his shoulder like some schoolgirl—"

“Okay, handsome _and_ funny. Nothing else.”

Jonghyun would not let it go. “Didn’t you mention something about how smart he is, too? And, like, _super talented_. I’m pretty sure you—”

“Okay”, Minhyun interrupts him, none too respectfully, “what are you trying to prove here? That I—that I have some _crush_ on him or something?”

“You said that yourself”, Jonghyun shrugs. The water slowly starts to run cold. “It would do you some good to be honest with yourself, maybe with me too, if you’re in the mood.”

Silence looms over them, heavy and uncomfortable, as Minhyun looks down, lost in thought. Jonghyun patiently waits for his decision.

“Jonghyun”, he says, and his voice comes out weaker than Jonghyun had heard it in years. “This is not what I’m here for, and I won’t let it be a distraction.”

A decision, or as much of one as Jonghyun would get from him.

“So my opinion of him shouldn’t matter”, Minhyun continues, turning off the tap. “Whether I _like_ him or not shouldn’t matter. Let’s just get this performance over with and we won’t have to deal with him anymore.”

“I thought we were befriending him”, Jonghyun says, not out of impulse, but still trying to gauge _something more_ out of Minhyun.

The taller male only shrugs. “You can do that if you’d like. I can’t afford that distraction.”

“So you do feel something for him.”

Minhyun stills while reaching for his towel. “I thought you’d already figured out the answer to that.”

“It wasn’t a question”, Jonghyun shrugs again, taking his own towel and wiping his face.

“Then you don’t have to rub it on my face”, Minhyun retorts, turning his back and wrapping the towel around his shoulders; Jonghyun feels bad for a moment before he reminds himself he’s doing this for a reason.

They dry themselves off quickly and quietly, bumping into each other on the way out of the stall. The bathroom’s stuffy, too hot from too many showers and the warmth from the heater; everywhere in the dorms was _too warm_ , but they’d gotten used to the temperature shock they felt when leaving for practice every morning by now.

“Jju-yah”, Minhyun breaks the silence, tank top in hands while he waits for Jonghyun to finish dressing, still too warm from the shower to feel like wearing it. “Even if I did—even if I _did_ like him—it wouldn’t matter. He’s not into that. It’s an—it would be an unrequited thing, so no worries.”

He offers Jonghyun a smile, trying and failing to believe in his own words.

“I’m not worried”, Jonghyun tries to reassure him. (He’s very worried.) “I was just checking on you.”

“Well, I’ve been doing well, now, haven’t I?”, Minhyun asks, all bluff and fake confidence. (They’re both terrible liars.) “Everyone’s been doing well.”

Jonghyun agrees with a wordless nod, thinking about Dongho and his easy smiles around his team, about Minki playing around with his bright, bright dongsaengs, his natural radiance making a rare appearance before them when they chanced upon their practice room the other day.

He takes one last look at Minhyun, whose eyes are closing against his will as he leans back against the wall, waiting for him to finish dressing up, then at himself in the mirror in front of the sink, looking smaller than ever in a tank top two sizes too large, face sunken and dark around the eyes.

When they finally leave the bathroom, and find their entire team waiting for them in tense anticipation, Jonghyun _knows_ he gave them the wrong idea.

He smiles and puts on a sweet façade, kindly telling the others to go to their beds and sleep as soon as they could. Seongwoo looks at them like he’d just seen a ghost, and for a moment Jonghyun almost regrets his ruse; he ultimately decides it is more than a little fun to mess with the other male like that.

That is, until he realizes Seongwoo is taking the whole _wrong idea_ thing harder than any of the others, if his semi-forlorn glance at Minhyun’s bunk is anything to go by.

Jonghyun is just glad Minhyun is too busy with his skincare routine to notice.

xxx

Confrontation with the _other party_ comes for Jonghyun the next day, barely two days away from when they’re supposed to perform.

They had grown closer, Jonghyun and Seongwoo – anyone in their circumstances would grow closer, Jonghyun figures –, maybe not as close as Minhyun had grown to Jaehwan and Hyunbin, not as close at all as Seongwoo and Daniel already were before they were even selected, but enough to feel at ease around each other, enough to find synchrony in their daily routines and certainly enough for Jonghyun to gain, somehow, Seongwoo’s utmost respect and admiration. Jonghyun’s word was final to Seongwoo, and there wasn’t a single decision Seongwoo had disagreed with, so far.

Still, it never stopped them from being awkward around each other whenever they were left alone.

It’s not like Jonghyun hadn’t expected it – hell, he’d been waiting the entire day for that to happen, honestly –, but he doesn’t expect to be caught off guard alone in the practice room, away from the cameras and from the other four boys, who had apparently decided to join Hyunbin in coming back to the dorm to fix his contacts.

(things had been going increasingly better ever since Jonghyun had adopted a more rigid posture towards Hyunbin; he could understand what was happening to the boy, he _really_ could relate to him, but he wasn’t about to let it destroy neither Hyunbin nor the fragile but good atmosphere their team had managed to build so far.

Between Minhyun’s little game and Jonghyun’s scolding, Hyunbin seemed to understand what was needed of him, Jonghyun would give him that)

“Hey, Jonghyun-ssi”, Seongwoo walks up to him after dazedly watching Minhyun’s back disappear behind the glass doors of their practice room; Jonghyun feels half-tempted to tease him. “Can I talk to you for a bit?”

“Yeah, what is it?”, Jonghyun replies easily, tilting his head to the side like Minhyun would do in his place; okay, so _maybe_ watching Seongwoo squirm in discomfort at the familiar gesture was just a little fun.

Seongwoo joins him on the floor, sitting in front of him at a respectful distance, still close enough that Jonghyun could make out a few details of his face.

His large, bright eyes, and how they would change from innocent enthusiasm to sultry and intense during practice. Jonghyun could tell he would be a hit on stage, much like he was during Pick Me.

The three moles on his left cheek, lined up like a small constellation; Jonghyun was never one to wax poetic about little fortunate accidents on other people’s complexions, but he could get why so many people were smitten with the lined-up stars on Seongwoo’s face.

His prominent nose and small mouth, complimentary to his face overall, and Jonghyun’s final begrudging admittance that Ong Seongwoo _is_ , in fact, very handsome. Not quite as much as Minhyun, not even close to the ethereal kind of beauty he and Minki exuded, but good-looking, anyway.

The kind of face Minhyun would really fall for, Jonghyun figures.

“It’s about”, Seongwoo hesitates, looking down at the beat-up wooden floor beneath them, at the wide empty space between their legs. “It’s about Minhyun.”

Jonghyun frowns, because as much as he had expected that to happen, the somber tone in Seongwoo’s voice gave way to more than one interpretation; he really didn’t want to start a conflict over whatever Seongwoo is about to say about Minhyun. “What’s the matter?”, he asks, instead of just nodding, “did something happen?”

Seongwoo shakes his head; just as expected, Jonghyun thinks, thankful. “No, it’s not…”, he starts, pauses, wringing his hands on his lap. “I just… sorry if this is off the line, but—“. He pauses again; Jonghyun nods encouragingly at him. “Ah, fuck this.”

As if possessed by new-found courage, Seongwoo lifts his head up, looking at Jonghyun straight in the eyes. It’s not a challenge by any means, but Jonghyun feels compelled to look back at him with the same intensity, holding back his laughter when it ultimately makes Seongwoo falter. “A-are you and Minhyun…?”

He trails off, making a vaguely vulgar hand gesture; Jonghyun keeps his face straight and Seongwoo’s hand sheepishly falls back onto his lap.

“Dating?”, the elder asks when there’s no verbal elaboration. “Fucking?”, and it’s almost funny because Seongwoo chokes despite his very own implication of the word moments ago. He allows silence to stretch into near awkwardness before shaking his head. “We’re not.”, he denies, “I don’t like Minhyunie that way.”

A muted “oh” is all that comes out of Seongwoo. When he seems like he’s about to escape, Jonghyun speaks again.

“Would you have a problem with that if we were?”

His tone is gentle, but he knows Seongwoo knows better than believing any answer other than _no_ would be accepted.

 “Not at all”, Seongwoo shrugs, looking back at the floor a little too fast. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna judge if you were—there’s nothing wrong with that, people should be allowed to be with whoever they—”

“Seongwoo”, Jonghyun interrupts him, holding a hand up. “If you have anything to say, just go ahead.”

Seongwoo hesitates, pressing his lips together and shifting uncomfortably in his spot; Jonghyun is patient, had always been too patient for his own good, even to people like Seongwoo, and so he waits until the younger male feels confident enough to blurt out—

“Have you guys—are you guys—have you ever, uh— _is Minhyun into guys?_ ”

_There it is._

Jonghyun blinks once, twice, still trying to digest the full question, shrugging when he finally does. “Yeah, he is. Why?”

It’s too easy to mess with Seongwoo, Jonghyun thinks, not too proudly, yet smiling to himself when the other male nearly splutters and chokes in his own saliva at the simple answer. He decides to amend the situation before it gets out of hand.

“Minhyunie doesn’t mind that other people know, but—but I’m only telling you this because I trust you. Because _we_ trust you. So try to think twice before spreading it around.”

“I would never do that”, Seongwoo is quick to defend himself, almost offended that Jonghyun thought that lowly of him. _Good_ , Jonghyun thinks. “I was just… genuinely curious. Is he—is he seeing someone right now?”

Jonghyun raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you think he has the _time_ to see someone while he’s in here?”

Seongwoo snorts, rubbing at the back of his head embarrassedly. “Point taken. I—I’m sorry, I must be sounding really invasive, right now—”

“It’s no problem”, Jonghyun replies lightly. “But you could have asked him all that, instead. I thought you guys were closer.”

Another awkward neck rub. “That’s… really not the case. But…”

“Ong Seongwoo.” Jonghyun is done playing around. “Are you interested in him?”

This time, Seongwoo actually chokes on his own spit. Jonghyun is surprised that he finds it so funny; he had never pegged himself for a sadist, but the circumstances seemed to have temporarily turned him into one. He knows he’ll regret this later.

He scoots over to Seongwoo’s side, patting him on the back a few times until he can breathe properly again. “You alright?”, he asks, saccharine-sweet innocence coating his words.

Seongwoo nods, still a little breathless. “Yeah, I—it’s not that, really—”

Jonghyun can feel his bullshit meter rise. He chooses to let Seongwoo finish whatever he has to say.

“It’s just that”, he continues, very coherently, “it’s—not _really_ that I’m interested, I—I’m gonna trust you with this too, since you’ve trusted me with—well, with Minhyun—"

Jonghyun purses his lips. That’s _not_ proper wording, and both he and Seongwoo know it. “I never said anything about trusting you _with_ Minhyun.”

“I know”, Seongwoo concedes, running a hand through his hair. “Bad wording. Anyway—you know how everyone goes through an… experimenting phase, right?”

Jonghyun finds it very hard to contain his annoyance now.

To Seongwoo’s luck, he shares the same rambling tendencies as Minhyun, and so Jonghyun’s nonverbalized distaste has gone over his head. “I just—I just thought that maybe he could help me—"

Jonghyun inhales sharply, this time effectively shutting Seongwoo up. “Look”, he starts, pausing before he says the wrong thing – if there is one thing he’d learned with Minhyun, it was how to carefully think over his words before he ended up giving Seongwoo the wrong idea. Wronger idea, in this case – Seongwoo hadn’t seemed to realize the harm in his words just yet. “I don’t know—I don’t _want_ to know what are your intentions with Minhyun, but I’ll warn you against trying anything.”

He watches Seongwoo’s throat bob as he swallows thickly, too intimidated to even _ask why_.

Seongwoo would know why soon enough, he’d make sure of that.

“Just because Minhyun likes boys”, he continues, voice firm and stern like when he had to scold Hyunbin for the last time, “just because you guys kissed on accident that one time and you liked it”, and Seongwoo blushes bright red, “it doesn’t give you the right to toy around with him to _experiment_.” He decides to twist the knife. “Who says he’ll even be receptive to you?”

Another lie. One he could live with.

“Just because you’re curious—or genuinely interested, I don’t know and I don’t _want_ to know—it doesn’t mean you’ll get what you want from him.” Jonghyun allows his smile to coat his words with gentleness again, placing a supportive hand on Seongwoo’s shoulder. “Look where we are, Seongwoo. Of all people, I thought you’d be the first to understand that this is _not_ the place for that. Even if it’s just _fooling around_.”

“I know”, Seongwoo replies weakly, unable to look at Jonghyun’s smiling face.

“And Minhyunie—“, Jonghyun stops himself, carefully thinks over his words about Minhyun, ultimately decides against saying anything about his dearest friend. “Nevermind. You know that I’m not telling you all this for _your_ sake.”

That makes Seongwoo look up at him, intrigued.

Jonghyun lets out a cute laugh, deceptively sweet, and he swears he sees Seongwoo suppress a shiver.

“I couldn’t care less about you right now, Seongwoo-yah”, Jonghyun says, patting the younger’s shoulder a few times before letting go. “I’m warning you for _him_. I don’t want you to hurt him just because you think it’ll be fun to _experiment_ while you’re in here. Do you understand?”

He gets up and leaves before Seongwoo can answer, the threat of letting his tough front crumble in front of an almost stranger (an almost _intruder_ ) too strong to be ignored. His heart races in his chest, both from the adrenaline rush of threatening someone and out of held back anger that Seongwoo would even _think—_

Jonghyun really hates to be wrong about people.

It’s hard to speculate what exactly Minhyun would think of his actions – what exactly he would _say_ once he found out what Jonghyun had done behind his back, acting so overprotective as if Minhyun had no idea how to properly defend himself from those pesky _feelings_.

Jonghyun contents himself with the finality of Minhyun’s words; _my opinion of him shouldn’t matter_ , playing over and over in his head, until the guilt he felt had subdued.

(he wondered if it was selfish of him to think of their budding friendship with Seongwoo as something bad, to really think of Seongwoo as an _invader_ ; they had always been five, and now they were forcibly reduced to being four, an essential piece of their crumbling puzzle missing, _no return ticket_.

Seongwoo had just proved to be no fit to be their fifth, even if only temporarily.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title taken from the beatles - julia.
> 
> my old end notes no longer apply bc it's been SO LONG but i'm doing it this time. i'm finishing this thing. also reiterating that i've done the changes i've done for plot-important reasons and that none of them is an asshole for having asshole thoughts once in a while. i know i'm treading on dangerous waters w/ my seongwoo characterization most of the time but i still feel pretty confident about his development... and the same goes for minhyun, who is by no means a saint nor actually knows what he's doing sdgjadsgas
> 
> next chapter incoming in a few hours :')


	8. we are compelled to do what we must do (to do what we have been forbidden)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> current threat level is thistle
> 
>  
> 
> which of your desires can you do without?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is... so late...
> 
> i have nothing to say, maybe a few disclaimers about mental health when i'm feeling alive again... this took so long to finish, i've been staring at the same 5k words for MONTHS now and i'm so sorry...
> 
> ok no i lied i have a few people to thank for helping make this chapter exist: tish, benji, kuro, jeni, pretty much everyone who put up with me and my salty jaded self these past months ;; thank you so much for not... giving up on me lol i know i can be a handful sometimes (most of the time) and im... glad i have so many people by my side still.

It’s late.

Minhyun has no exact idea what time they stopped dancing to flop down on the floor, sweaty backs leaning against the studio mirror, breath coming out in short gasps, every part of their bodies burning with heat and the creeping feeling of exhaustion that had been hovering over them for weeks. His arms, one draped over Hyunbin’s shoulder, the other on his lap, barely touching the top of the younger’s head as he lay down between him and Seongwoo, refuse to work; there’s a slight twitch to his fingers whenever they brush against Hyunbin’s hair, and as much as he feels he should be helping their youngest calm down, they won't move any more than that.

As it is, they listen quietly to Hyunbin's small sobs while he cries himself into a fitful sleep; Seongwoo stares ahead, at the dimly-lit hallway outside the studio, eyes half-lidded and heavy. Minhyun tries closing his eyes, once, twice, several times in the seconds or minutes or hours they've been sitting there, only to feel excruciatingly nauseated whenever he does so. He briefly wonders if Seongwoo's reasons to struggle with falling asleep are the same, but asking out loud never really crosses his mind.

They're the only ones left in the studio, but Minhyun doubts they're the only ones still practicing in the building. After sending Jonghyun off to sleep (and a hesitant Daniel, and an exhausted Jaehwan), they had proceeded to spend the next several hours of the night going through the choreography due in two days with Hyunbin, who, despite his tremendous improvement on the past few days, still couldn't quite master the most essential parts of the dance. Minhyun had offered, Seongwoo had seconded his offer, much to everyone's surprise; he had never seemed to be too fond of poor Hyunbin.

Jonghyun had refused to leave them, at first, ever the good leader (and maybe a tad too wary of Seongwoo, Minhyun suspected from the strange glances he threw at the other man from time to time; even Minhyun himself had suspected his motives when he offered to help _Hyunbin_ of all people), but at Minhyun's and Hyunbin's insistence he had relented, and by two or three a.m. he had retired to their room as well, leaving only Minhyun and Seongwoo to help Hyunbin out.

Dancing until his legs gave out was nothing new to Minhyun; hell, he had been doing just that for _months_ before they ultimately joined that survival show ( _and we still managed to fuck up something we knew by heart for over six years_ , Dongho's bitter voice echoes in his head), practicing until the early hours of the morning, getting two, three at most, hours of sleep, eating just enough to not collapse. The anxious environment brought on by uncertainty was no novelty, either, and even though he considered himself a relatively calm person, his body could feel the pressure of the past month taking its toll. He could tell Seongwoo had been going through something very similar.

When Hyunbin’s sobs no longer echo around the room, replaced instead by soft snores and shallow breaths, Minhyun breaks the silence. It’s not like either him or Seongwoo are getting any sleep in that state, anyway.

“Thanks for staying up this late”, he says, subdued and staring ahead; from the corner of his eyes, he spots Seongwoo’s head whipping around to look at him, startled by the noise. “He’s made a lot of progress tonight. I think we’ll be ready by tomorrow night if he keeps up like this.”

Seongwoo shrugs; Minhyun realizes he’ll probably give himself a headache if he keeps staring ahead while paying attention to the blurry edges of his vision, and tilts his head to stare at Seongwoo’s general direction. “’S nothing. Glad I got to help.”

Minhyun nods, using what little energy was still left in him to smile at Seongwoo’s ear; for some reason, it’s really hard to focus on his face right now. He decides to blame exhaustion. “You helped a lot. Especially by convincing Jonghyun he really needed the sleep and that the world wouldn’t collapse if he didn’t tutor Hyunbin for one night.”

He hears Seongwoo snort, then feels a slight pang of envy when he lifts up an arm to push his hair out of his face. “That was a little too brave of me, I gotta admit. You don’t think that came off as challenging leadership, do you?”

“Nah”, Minhyun quickly dismisses his worries; later, much later, he would look back into this night and laugh at his own obliviousness. For now, all he knows is Seongwoo did just what he would have done if he had the energy for more than just emotionally supporting Hyunbin. “It’s good to tell him what to do sometimes, otherwise he’ll just take every burden he can because he thinks he has to. So, yeah… thanks for that.”

Seongwoo hums, also staring at some point that is not exactly Minhyun’s face; this little dance between them has been ongoing for the past few days, all this talking to each other but not really looking at each other. _As if things could get any more awkward_ , Minhyun muses bitterly, the burning sensation of shame stinging his face.

He doesn’t expect Seongwoo to pick up their conversation once they mutually allowed it to die, but he does. “I’m not really good at choreography”, he confesses, startling Minhyun into actually _looking_ at him for once, drawn in by the vulnerability of his voice. “I’m good at dance. It’s been way easier for me to pick up choreo since we got here, but I know that’s my weak point right now.” He stares down at Hyunbin, face contorted into a fond frown. “He got the choreo just fine, but he really needs to refine his dance.”

It’s Minhyun’s turn to hum in agreement, surprised that Seongwoo actually had something _nice_ to say about Hyunbin this time; saying this to his face would be pushing it, though, and he thinks this is probably the end to their fleeting conversation as his brain is too muddled by exhaustion to come up with anything to tell Seongwoo.

Well, anything that won’t embarrass Minhyun in the morning, that is.

Seongwoo seems to have different plans and refuses to let conversation die just yet.

“Tomorrow’s our dress rehearsal”, he says casually despite the waver in his voice. “Are you nervous?”

Minhyun doesn’t answer at first, thinking that maybe he’d hallucinated this part of the conversation; he really doesn’t want to go there just yet. “Are _you_ nervous?”, he asks, instead, once his brain decides to catch up with his body.

The other man does not even hesitate. “Of course I am. It’s my first time performing to, like, potential fans?” He chuckles quietly; it’s not really funny, Minhyun thinks, but he smiles all the same just as Seongwoo’s faces distorts into seriousness again. “But I asked you first.”

“Sorry”, Minhyun apologizes with a shrug. “Didn’t think you were actually interested.”

Seongwoo frowns, lips jutting forwards just a little in a semi-pout. “Well, I am.”

There’s a finality to those words that Minhyun decides to pretend not to have felt, despite the churning in his stomach telling him differently. It’s good that they’re already red and sweaty from practice, he thinks, because his embarrassment now can be easily concealed by just how _shitty_ he looks.

And, well, now he has to answer him. Truthfully or not.

“I’ve been doing this for years”, he starts, careful not to sound like it’s a brag (it is definitely not). “I’ve done this in bigger venues, bigger stages, to… bigger crowds.

“Not the biggest”, he’s quick to correct himself, even as Seongwoo’s expression remains on the realm of neutrality. “Definitely bigger than a thousand, I mean. Still”, he sighs, shifting slightly in place when he realizes Seongwoo is actually _looking_ at him as he speaks. Not the development he wanted nor expected, really. “Still, it feels like it’s the first time, somehow. Like I was just reborn and suddenly forgot how to do this.”

Seongwoo nods, finally looking away – back at the hallway outside. Minhyun thinks they’re finally going to stop talking, that things will fall back into their awkward place and that they’ll finally be allowed to resume avoiding each other. It’s for their own good, really – he had to abide by his word after he gave it to Jonghyun, after all. No distractions allowed.

It’s not the end; Minhyun looks up to the ceiling, wondering what he’d done in his past lives to deserve this. Really, the less he had to interact with Seongwoo by now, the better.

Hyunbin doesn’t even budge between them when Seongwoo speaks again, his slumber heavy no matter how precarious his sleeping conditions were. Minhyun is thankful for that, at least.

“You know, when I heard about you guys participating, I…”, Seongwoo pauses, and Minhyun holds his breath in anticipation to hear something he knows he doesn’t want to. “I didn’t like the idea at all. Which means I didn’t like _you guys_ much when we first met, either, because I thought you had some kind of unfair advantage over everyone else. I thought some other pretty bad things of you and your motives to join, or how you’d treat everyone else since you seemed to be on a _superior_ level.”

Minhyun fights the urge to shrug. He’s sure Seongwoo isn’t the only one who thinks that.

Seongwoo stares at him again and Minhyun wishes he wouldn’t. “Being here is tough. Tougher than I thought it would be. People are even dropping out, and sometimes I don’t know why I’m still here if this place only makes me feel like shit for having to go through this to—to debut.”

Silence falls heavily on them; Minhyun has nothing to say that Seongwoo doesn’t already know, so Seongwoo continues.

“I was wrong. About you guys, about the kind of people you are. And we—we’re going through the same. There’s nothing special about the way they treat you. You do look after each other a lot, but—I guess it’s only natural since you’re friends and know each other for a long time?” He chuckles, reaching out to pat lightly at Minhyun’s arm and groaning at the effort. “Anyway, what I mean to say is that I’m sorry.”

This time, Minhyun is quick to respond.

“You don’t have to apologize for something ninety other people probably thought, too”, and he finally lets himself shrug, despite the smile tugging at his corners.

“No”, Seongwoo shakes his head, leaning closer onto the Hyunbin-sized gap between them as if to reiterate his point. “Really, I’m sorry. I know I treated you horribly when—that day back in the bathroom, and that I haven’t been the nicest person—”

“You’ve been very nice to us”, Minhyun reassures him, “you’re being a team player and that’s what really matters. First impressions or not, you didn’t let that get in the way of the team.”

“Yeah”, Seongwoo concedes, pursing his lips. “But I’m still sorry.”

Minhyun decides to tease him; this is not the kind of situation he deals with, Jonghyun is the one in charge of talking things out. “You really weren’t lying when you said you always looked apologetic, huh?”

That actually gets a giggle out of Seongwoo; Minhyun then decides it was the best possible answer he could give him.

xxx

The needle sting against his thigh jolts Minhyun back into Earth; there’s idle chatter in the dressing room as their outfits receive last-minute adjustments for the rehearsals, but he doesn’t really catch anything his teammates are saying. His body feels afloat, not entirely where he is supposed to be, and his mind feels even farther away, rational thoughts muted and giving way to distant places he would much rather be than in that dressing room. Pain usually gets him out of that state, he had learned that first when Minki pinched his arm out of a full dissociation episode in the middle of a Music Bank rehearsal.

He blinks, eyes unfocused at first, zeroing in on the bright lights of the vanity mirror; it stings to stare at them, too, but it’s hard to stop looking until he’s fully back. Soon, the light pull on the seam of his pants is gone, and he’s left looking ahead, flexing fingers in a feeble attempt to grab back at reality.

A tap to his arm and warm air against his ear; the pull towards reality becomes stronger, and Minhyun grasps at it as a low “you there?” whispered all too close to comfort draws a sharp inhale out of him. _Not really_ , his brain provides feebly as he suppresses a shiver, _but getting there_.

He feels himself mutter an automatic “yeah, sorry”; Seongwoo’s frown hovers in front of him but it’s hard to tell whether he’s too close or at a safe distance just yet. He seems unconvinced, or at least the projection of him in front of Minhyun does; on moments like these it gets hard for him to tell whether he is stuck in a daydream or staring at real, tangible things. Long fingers wrap around his arm, pulling him closer as he remembers how his feet work; one ahead of the other, careful not to trip. The person guiding him outside has a distinct scent to them, not fully familiar, but something Minhyun had been slowly growing used to. It’s only when they step on stage that he realizes Seongwoo was the one who took him there.

It all comes crashing back on him, but Minhyun had always been good at concealing these episodes. He blinks and flexes his fingers again, pulling his arm back; Seongwoo then looks at him, smiling apologetically as he lets go.

“Sorry”, Seongwoo whispers as they listen to the director’s instructions; this time Minhyun hears it, but takes a beat longer to understand what he is apologizing for. The ghost of Seongwoo’s touch on his arm slowly grows cold.

“It’s okay”, he whispers back, trying to focus what little attention he has regained on the man in front of them. “This is okay”, he adds, glancing down at their hands; Seongwoo follows his gaze and presses his lips together, quickly looking upwards again as they subtly and deliberately brush against each other.

Rehearsals actually go off without a hitch for them; Hyunbin got most of what he could in choreography and wasn’t much, if any, of a nuisance in team synchrony. Jaehwan had been doing well for a few days, the all-rounder he was (despite dance really not being his forte, he did well regardless), and Daniel was never a worry to any of them to begin with.

They wait around for the other groups to complete their rehearsals, idly wondering if it would be okay for them to stop wasting time in that building and maybe leave for the training facility or out to get early dinner. Minhyun had already relearned how to tune out hunger in the past month, hardened by years of dieting and exercising for comebacks, but he knows that it’s not the case for the others; he knows where most of them will escape to as soon as the staff tells them they’re dismissed. He idly wonders if he should follow them, reminding himself of the limited stocks of meat for over ninety starved boys.

Jonghyun quietly settles by his side while they lean back against a backstage wall, the muffled noise of the _Replay_ MR playing on stage almost an afterthought. “Minki told me Dongho tried to start beef with the other team.”

All he earns from Minhyun is a blank stare. “What kind of beef?”, he asks, trying to gauge a more _real_ reaction out of himself.

“Dunno exactly”, Jonghyun muttered, looking miffed. “Something about ad libs or whatever.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. There goes Leader JR again. “He shouldn’t pull this kind of stuff in front of cameras. He knows what they can do with that.”

Minhyun purses his lips, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at his brute of a best friend. Dongho had always been just as cheeky as Minhyun himself – one of the reasons they got along so well –, but he never seemed to know when to tone it down. “They’re gonna exploit him anyway. A lot of people looked genuinely scared of him during evaluations.”

Jonghyun pouts. “I thought they were scared of _us_.”

“You wish”, Minhyun replies, surprised at how bitter he sounds; he immediately pedals back, because putting down their own group in front of the leader he wants to push some confidence into is never the best idea. “I mean. At least half of Daehwi’s team are scared of Dongho.”

“Even Samuel? We helped _raise_ him”, Jonghyun complains, and Minhyun finds himself smiling. It feels good to have a good, almost _normal_ conversation with someone he knows well for once.

Their idle chatter continues on, falls into the comfortable territory of _kids we raised together_ ; Minhyun glances away at times, stealing glances at their teammates loitering about. Jaehwan and Hyunbin seem enthralled by a mobile game Hyunbin had recently started playing, and Daniel and Seongwoo talk quietly in a corner about what Minhyun assumes is a lighthearted subject, judging by how Daniel’s resting smiley face barely changes as they talk. His gaze pauses at Seongwoo, whose 3-dot moles face his side, visible to Minhyun's eye even under the dim light, even with the light makeup they put on them for recording.

It's the kind of thing he loathes doing, this sort of senseless pining that will most likely lead him nowhere; prior experience from all crushes he's had before – in famous and non-famous people alike – taught him how to brush it off and distance himself from whatever it was that he felt. Soon, he would be far enough from Seongwoo for his feelings to subdue, lulled into a sense of platonic affection the moment he sees him again the next week.

He catches Jonghyun staring at him, belatedly realizing he was asked a question he never paid attention to. His friend's stare is etched with worry, and Minhyun almost finds it funny how Jonghyun dared to say he _wasn't worried at all_ about him just two days ago.

_It's fine_ , he mouths at his leader before apologizing and asking him to repeat his question.

Just one more day.

xxx

Everyone is a bit on edge on the performance day.

Hyunbin cries three times before he manages to stop and put on his contacts; Jaehwan drops everything he tries to pick up, trembling hands crashing everywhere before Minhyun has to take them in his own and ensure him that everything will be fine.

(Jaehwan may or may not have gotten a little flustered while they held hands, looking anywhere but at Minhyun before proceeding to quickly seeing himself out of the room when he had the chance. Minhyun doesn’t really dwell on it; he knows some of his effects on people, but deluding himself that _two_ guys in that place would feel any attraction to him was a bit much)

Jonghyun has his calm façade on, the one Minhyun knows to be a bluff; he settles for not calling his friend out on it, unwilling to risk breaking their leader right before their performance.

He hadn’t lied to Seongwoo; they’d done this before, in bigger venues, although not the _biggest_ , and they’d gone through much more nerve-wrackingly difficult performances before. What made this one different, despite the memorable choreography, despite the small crowd, was the _finality_ of it. Spread thin among three different teams, the three songs they were about to sing felt close to their swan songs; one mistake, one brief moment of having their guard down and that last chance would very likely slip away from under their fingertips.

It’s obvious that all of this shows on Minhyun’s face during their brief van trip to the venue, because it has Jonghyun sending him a very pointed look that startles him awake from daydreams of failure. Seongwoo (who, up until that point, Minhyun had not realized was sitting beside him all that time) calls his name, the impatient tone in his voice denouncing that it isn’t the first time he tried to get his attention in the past five minutes. Minhyun blinks, sweeping thoughts of imminent failure aside to pay attention to his surroundings. It’s nothing that would worry Jonghyun on a normal day, all too used to watching his friend’s mind disappear in plain sight to better – or worse – places; still, it must be concerning enough for the others who don’t know him well, judging by the way the four other boys look at him.

“Sorry”, he apologizes (and relishes in the irony of having said that word more than the times he sang it in rehearsals for the past week), blinking again until his eyes focus on a slightly confused Daniel. “Sometimes I sleep with my eyes open.”

(Bullshit, but they don’t have to know.

Seongwoo stares at him like he knows)

“We’ll have more than enough time to sleep after we’re done recording”, Jonghyun gently reminds him, although he, too, is fully aware of Minhyun’s bullshit. “We’ll get a lot of time to rest before—well, before everyone is needed again.”

The six of them fall into a brief but awkward silence; Jonghyun didn’t need to say anything for the word – and cruel reminder – _elimination_ to cross their minds. Minhyun finds it hard to understand why living in uncertainty now makes him so anxious when the past six years had been nothing but a blurry haze of half-fulfilled promises of making it big and never knowing where he would be the next day; maybe it is the finality of the _last chance_ they were given the moment they made the decision to join the show, maybe it’s in how everything is new and scary when you’re no longer part of one single unit after so long.

It’s actually _good_ to feel something once in a while, Minhyun thinks, even when the butterflies in his stomach refuse to relent, be it out of the prospect of performing very soon or because Seongwoo continues to look at him like he knows something Minhyun does not.

Hyunbin speaks up after a long awkward silence, determined to improve the atmosphere Jonghyun had never meant to ruin (his first mistake as a leader; as _that team’s leader_ , at least). “I’m gonna miss you guys”, he pouts, and they know he means it. “Can we do something during the week? Like, have lunch out or even go out for coffee?”

“Well, I’m broke, so I kinda like the coffee idea better”, Jaehwan quips, drawing a chuckle from the others. “Unless our celebrity hyungs want to treat us”, he adds, sending a cheeky smile to Jonghyun.

“We’d love to”, Jonghyun replies with a smile. “But even _celebrities_ like us have short pockets these days. Coffee it is.”

Jaehwan laughs; Daniel and Hyunbin do, too, following his lead. “It’s a date, then!”

Minhyun smiles and nods, not entirely sure what exactly they’re promising until the warmth of Seongwoo’s side against his own pulls him back to reality again. There is idle chatter going around, now, with Jonghyun keeping the younger ones distracted enough until they make it to the venue and their nerves get the best of them again, but it all sounds like white noise when Seongwu leans closer and whispers next to his ear, a puff of hot air sending unwanted shivers down Minhyun’s neck, “are you really okay, though?”

“Of course I am”, he answers, a little too fast for his brain to process his words before they stumble out of his mouth. “Why do you ask?”

_What right do you even have to ask_ , he wants to shoot back, his embarrassment quickly turning into something angrier as he purses his lips and notices Seongwoo’s small, lopsided smile. _What right do you even have to care now?_ , the question echoes in his mind; his resolve to remain mildly annoyed at the other man quickly dissolves under the fast and heavy beating of his heart.

Seongwoo’s teasing smile slowly transforms into an embarrassed grin. “It’s just that—“, and something warm shifts against Minhyun’s hand, sending little jolts all over his body – a reminder that he actually had one, and that he was supposed to inhabit it. “You’ve been holding my hand for a while, is all.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

Seongwoo laughs, low in his throat, for Minhyun’s ears only, and the sound alone is enough to make him blush and try to pull his hand away at the same time.

It’s sweaty. Seongwoo’s palm is damp as well. Yet, he’s sure he’s the only one sweating.

“Wait—” the other man pulls his hand back, lets both their arms fall back into place on the gap between their seats. No one’s paying attention to them—for a moment, Minhyun thinks this could be another one of his dissociative daydreams until someone behind him bursts out in laughter and the sound rings all too clear in his ears.

He still lets Seongwoo have his way.

“This is okay”, Seongwoo reassures him, “I mean—this _is_ okay, right? With you?”

Minhyun looks down at their hands, flexes his fingers – Seongwoo takes that as an opportunity to flex his own and entwine them, clammy palm against clammy palm. His hands are bigger than Minhyun’s – not a difficult feat, considering Minhyun had really small hands for someone his size –, but his fingers fit just right against his, heavy like an anchor, reattaching him to the body and place he was supposed to be in.

His mind wanders back to the day he found Seongwoo in the bathroom, looking a lot smaller and so fragile he could have broken under Minhyun’s touch right then and there. A different kind of disconnection than the one Minhyun himself felt at times, yet close enough for him to feel compelled to help.

He had never taken Seongwoo for the type to repay in kind.

Forcing out a smile – and holding back a surprised gasp at the realization that he didn’t actually have to force it out –, he nods, lets his arm relax. “Yes. This is okay.”

xxx

They watch – Minhyun _thinks_ they watch – as group of nervous boys after group of nervous boys steps out of the waiting room to prepare for their stages. Minhyun plasters on a smile and easily falls into the role of charming, enthusiastic sunbaenims he had been so far. It’s easier, now, to fall back into his old, cheerful mindset, the feeling of Seongwoo’s hand lingering on his own, reminding him that there would be always something—someone to pull him back.

Minki’s stage goes off without a hitch, much to Minhyun’s – and Jonghyun’s, and Dongho’s – relief. Despite having it the hardest throughout the show, Minki had managed to recover the shine he’d always had, pushing through with an outstanding performance in an outstanding group, fitting so well into the concept they’d chosen Minhyun almost feels a pang of jealousy watching their chemistry on stage.

(he briefly wonders how it will be like when— _if_ one of them makes it to the final group, having to watch that member bond and get close with other people, go through a different path for over a year. if handling Aron’s brief absence has been hard enough on them as it was, he couldn’t start to imagine how it would be like to be separated from one of them for that long

that thought alone is enough for him to earn a sharp nudge to the ribs from Jonghyun, jolting him back to their current reality as four separate entities under the same roof; it’s a good but painful – in more ways than one – reminder, and he makes a mental note to thank Jonghyun later for that)

The call for their stage doesn’t take long to come; they move mechanically to their assigned backstage room, getting last-minute touches from overly bearing makeup noonas on their way there, blinking back tears, fumbling with hands and feet and everything else while feigning nonchalance. Minhyun gets touchy when he’s nervous (no excuse is needed to get touchy at any given moment, considering who he is), and Jonghyun gets overbearingly caring when he is anxious; the results are a somewhat dysfunctional duo trying to keep the team together (through bone crushing hugs and lots of impromptu hand holding, in Minhyun’s case, and through endless fussing over their outfits and microphones and in-ear placements, in Jonghyun’s case).

It becomes a bit of a dance, whatever he and Seongwoo are playing at; while they wait to enter stage, Seongwoo casually bumps shoulders with him, smiles apologetically as Minhyun whispers an _it’s okay_ that says much more than it should. He isn’t quite sure if the tension that quickly builds up stems from their own anxiety or something else, and at this point he knows it is futile to try and find out. Panic briefly washes over him as he unconsciously pulls Seongwoo into a quick one-armed hug, and his free arm flies to the other person beside him – Hyunbin, of all people, whose shoulders are harder to reach than anyone else’s in that group, even for Minhyun – as he deals with the consequences of the unreasonable amounts of skinship he had been indulging himself to. Seongwoo glances at him, confused at first; Minhyun’s arm freezes around his shoulder as he refuses to make eye contact, but all Seongwoo does is whisper back, cheeky yet quiet enough that no surrounding microphones could catch him, _it’s okay_.

The lights on stage are almost blinding when they step in; Minhyun readies himself for the introduction they had practiced so hard for and allows adrenaline to course over him for the next fifteen minutes, blinding his senses and fogging his memory.

xxx

Minhyun hears little of what his friends say as they leave the stage, ears ringing as the song still echoes in the back of his head, mingled with the screams of the audience, confusing his senses as the bright lights that hurt his eyes turn into smaller and smaller spots in his vision. Someone pulls at his sleeve and he forces out a smile as he briefly catches a word or two thrown in the stuffy air of the narrow backstage corridors.

The word _disappointment_ makes his heart race faster; he’d grown used to performing under pressure, automatic and robot-like, perfecting his every move and modulating his voice to fit whichever song he had to sing. That stage was no different, if not for the rapid thrumming of his heart against his chest as it tightens up. He had never been one to be quick to register emotions, and it’s only in the hot minute that staff leaves them alone that he realizes performing had hurt like a farewell.

He presses himself against the wall behind him, closing his eyes tightly as he tells the others to go on without him, that he would _be there in a minute_. Someone stops by his side, pressing their shoulders onto his, warm and persistent as Minhyun tries to still his gasping breath; when a shudder washes through the person beside him, also shaking Minhyun to his core, he forces his eyes open.

Seongwoo looks back at him, gasping breath matching his own, tinted blue under the dim light.

“You did well”, he tells Minhyun, slow and groggy as he gingerly reaches up to his microphone and unceremoniously rips it out, hands shaky. “Did I—”, he starts and reaches for Minhyun’s own microphone, much more careful when he pulls it out of his face and ear, the tips of his fingers brushing ever so softly against the hollow of Minhyun’s cheeks.

(they were once so full, and now Seongwoo can feel the solidness of his cheekbones as his hand daringly wanders up his face)

“Did I do well?”, he completes his question, vulnerability sipping through the softness of his voice, the crease of his eyebrows as he stares intently at Minhyun (or at his hand as it makes its way downwards again, as it settles on the nape of Minhyun’s neck, warm and clammy as Minhyun himself feels right now).

Minhyun blinks, forgets how to breathe for a moment as he realizes he remembers nothing of their stage. “You did”, he lies, but tries to convince himself that he’s telling him the truth, that he’d seen Seongwoo go through their routine enough to know he could never fail it. “Yeah, you did”, he rasps out when Seongwoo frowns at him, inhaling sharply when he notices how close he is to the other man.

“You’re lying”, Seongwoo accuses him, the tenderness of the hand on his neck sharply contrasting with the hushed harshness of his voice.

“I’m not—“

“You did well, but you’re—“, Seongwoo cuts him off, raising his other hand so quickly Minhyun flinches; he sets it on the other side of Minhyun’s face just as delicately as when he had removed his microphone. It lights a fire in all of Minhyun; warmth courses through his veins, turning numbness into awareness as he starts to awaken from his anxiety-induced trance. “You’re acting up.”

_That’s not how I call it_ , Minhyun wants to retort, but he says, instead, “Why are you here?”

“To pull you back from wherever you are”, Seongwoo replies, almost too easily, and Minhyun feels something bitter in the back of his mouth at his response; he knows where this is going all too well.

“You owe me nothing”, he tries to pull away, but all it does is pull Seongwoo closer, impossibly closer. He looks down, finds his hands grasping at Seongwoo’s sleeves, keeping him in place.

Seongwoo’s mouth twists into a scowl and he scoffs; their breaths mingle in the short distance between their faces and all Minhyun can think is _danger_. “I’m not doing this to repay you any favors.”

Minhyun’s words fail him when Seongwoo gazes down at his lips. He licks them almost on instinct, looking down at his as well; this is too vivid to be a daydream, he reasons when Seongwoo bites his lip and hesitates, briefly pulling away before leaning in even closer, brushing their noses together. _Too vivid for a daydream, too much of a daydream to be real_ , yet Minhyun chooses to believe in the realness of the hands holding him when Seongwu blinks, apologizes with a quiet _sorry_ , continues with an _is this okay?_ , gently pulling Minhyun closer as he nods his consent.

“Is this okay?”, Seongwoo repeats against Minhyun’s lips, unconvinced by his silent _yes_ , and Minhyun presses their lips together to make it clear for once.

The noise outside – on the _stage_ , a few meters from them, a couple walls away – is deafening against Minhyun’s ears, but it slowly dissipates into white noise as Seongwoo’s lips move against his, not quite clumsy but curiously, exploring uncharted territory. It’s not Minhyun’s first – it’s definitely _not_ Seongwoo’s first, Minhyun can tell –, yet at first they kiss so cautiously Minhyun thinks one of them might break at any sudden move.

Seongwoo’s lips are chapped, and Minhyun is sure his are, too; far from the imagined softness of a first kiss, this feels a lot more real than anything in the past two days for Minhyun. For once, his feet touch the ground and he feels it underneath him. For once, he hears the thrumming of his heart against his chest and knows it is _his_ , for once the warmth is welcome rather than suffocating.

In a daring move, Seongwoo swipes his tongue over Minhyun’s lower lip, and Minhyun, just as daring, parts his lips at the contact, relishing in how Seongwoo’s hand tightens around his nape. They deepen their kiss, tentative and cautious, and Minhyun feels Seongwoo’s every move against his body; waves of relief and little sparks of pleasure course through his veins.

In a strange, yet pleasant way, he feels like himself again.

(in the pit of his stomach, dread makes its home; he knows it won’t last, nothing good ever lasts for him—for _them_ , the five of them—)

“Minhyun hyung?”

(Jaehwan’s voice echoing through the hallway proves him right)

The hands around his neck disappear, out of his reach and out of his sight, the moment Jaehwan calls his name. Seongwoo steps back once, twice, and it’s only by the third step that Minhyun notices his absence, startled into almost losing his grasp over himself again. The hint of a blush tints his cheeks; Minhyun feels the same burn spreading across his face to the very tips of his ears.

“Sorry”, Seongwoo mutters in apology, and Minhyun has a feeling he isn’t apologizing for the abrupt interruption. ”I shouldn’t—"

“Minhyun hyung?”, Jaehwan calls again, peeking at the hallway from a corner. They whip their heads to stare at him, only to see Jaehwan sigh in relief when he notices Seongwoo standing there as well. “Ah, Seongwoo hyung was with you. Jonghyun hyung was worried. They’re calling us to see the votes, now, you should come as well.”

Wiping at his mouth, Seongwoo nods, sidestepping Minhyun to follow the younger. “Ah, yeah. The votes. Sorry.”

He turns the corner behind Jaehwan, leaving Minhyun to deal with finding himself alone; when he doesn’t move right away, Jaehwan clears his throat, worried but not intent on bothering the elder.

“Hyung? You’re coming?”, he asks, biting his lip when Minhyun all but blinks at him. “Are you feeling alright?”

Minhyun blinks again, flexing his fingers to keep himself from touching his lips, then gingerly nods when he’s sure he’s back to being himself again. “Yeah, sorry”, he tells the younger. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Peachy, even.”

He wobbles his way into the room, knees weak for more reasons than just exhaustion from performing.

xxx

Seongwoo treats Minhyun the same as they wait to see their votes, sitting by his side and even letting him nervously cling to him and to Hyunbin like an anxious koala throughout the process.

Looking at the numbers, he realizes it was an easy win for them, with only Seonho as a stronger contender from the other team; he wonders if they—if _he and Jonghyun—_ should feel guilty for having an inkling of popularity due to their status as debuted idols. The boys seem grateful enough—Seongwoo shares a giddy laugh with Daniel, and Hyunbin looks torn between crying and celebrating along with the other boys.

As they get up to go back to the waiting room, Jonghyun pulls Minhyun back by the tail of his coat – a gesture that is meant to look cute, but that tells Minhyun nothing good is about to come out of their leader now.

“What did you do?”, Jonghyun asks, voice stern and devoid of the sweetness he had spared for the boys during their days together.

Minhyun sighs, aware that he chose to ask what he _did_ rather than where he was, or any other more concerned-sounding question. Answering honestly was never an option; he did promise Jonghyun it would go away, after all, and he was intent on keeping it, no matter how many more times he’d end up kissing Seongwoo (and oh, how he hated himself in that moment for wanting it to happen _again_ ). “Nothing I’ll regret later”, he chooses to answer, firmly enough that it makes Jonghyun grunt in mild acceptance and let him go.

“Let’s hope you won’t”, the older replies matter-of-factly, walking past him to leave the room. “I think he already does.”

Despite knowing ignoring Jonghyun’s words tends to not be the wisest thing to do, Minhyun decides to do just that, for now.

xxx

It’s pretty anticlimactic, in a way, how easily they make their way back home once recordings wrap up, how easily he falls back into normality with Seongwoo before they pack up and leave the Produce dorms to go back to their respective places.

How good Seongwoo gets at pretending nothing happened in that dim corridor after their performance.

How Minhyun, never one for pushing anyone, decides to leave it at that, happy enough Seongwoo didn’t seem disgusted by the event, at the very least, and Minhyun considers that a small victory.

(maybe he’ll ask Minki if he’s a good kisser later, but something tells him he’ll only bring more trouble upon himself if he does ask that question at such an odd time)

The _normalcy_ of it all is almost upsetting to Minhyun until they walk back into their actual dorm and Aron is nowhere to be found – then it dissipates into emptiness and a vague sense of longing. The apartment itself is almost untouched from the last time they had been there; traces of Aron’s presence are long gone, and for a moment Minki panics at the idea that Aron might have left _for good_ until they barge into the eldest’s room and, aside from a few gaps in the closet, find everything else in its place.

They call him late at night, huddled up around Jonghyun’s phone and laughing at the eldest’s anecdotes and feeling some resemblance of genuine joy for the first time in week. When their hyung asks to FaceTime them, it takes one brief look at each other’s tired and sunken faces for Jonghyun to politely decline, using their “tired and unwashed” faces as an excuse that Aron doesn’t really buy.

“We did choose to do this”, Jonghyun reasons when Aron asks them how they’re holding up. Minki tries not to cry, and they settle for letting their leader find the most appropriate way to lie to their beloved hyung about their well-being in general. “It’s a little tough, but it’ll only make us stronger, in the end.”

Aron hums, listening in to their stories so quietly Minhyun starts to suspect something is wrong, and that maybe he _is_ leaving, after all.

“Is—is everything okay, hyung?”, Jonghyun finally asks when he doesn’t react to Minki’s anecdote.

“Yeah, I’m fine—you guys just sound really tired, is all”, Aron replies, worry etched in his voice. “Will it change anything if I ask you not to overdo it?”

Jonghyun shrugs at the phone. “Well, you _are_ the hyung here, we should—we should listen to you well.”

Aron scoffs. “Like you ever cared if I’m the eldest.”

Minhyun holds back a giggle. “We don’t, really. But you’re still our beloved friend and we care about what you have to say to us?”

“Does that mean you’ll take it a little easier from now on?”, the eldest asks, unconvinced.

Jonghyun hums, unsure what to say, until Minki chimes in. “Don’t get your hopes up, these guys are a bunch of self-sacrificing fools.”

They laugh, listening to Aron’s tired sigh and light nagging from the other end of the line; in the following days, however, they do end up following his advice to take things a little easier, lazing around rather than going outside and granting themselves a hard-earned rest after their hectic schedule of recording and practicing so hard.

Daniel opens a group chat for their team, called _Justice League_ , and despite Hyunbin’s endless nagging for a group outing, everyone else feels too tired or is too busy to actually comply. Their conversation is light-hearted and cheery, different in weight from all the times they had talked while they were an actual _team_ ; it’s strange, in a way, to both Minhyun and Jonghyun, how quickly they became _friends_ with those boys. Neither of them were as good at befriending people as Minki, who had easily made himself at home among the ninety-something other boys, nor as sociable as Aron, who had his own clique of friends outside their group (admittedly, mostly out of _foreigner solidarity_ than out of affinity). Befriending people was something Minhyun had long forgotten how to do, amidst dealing with their still loyal following of fans and trying to _make it_ in the industry.

(he did have his fair share of _people he had met and related to_ , especially during their harsh days in Japan, where they were effectively anonymous outside schedules, where no one needed to know what he was doing there.

these days feel too distant, now; the only memories left of them are the haunting ones, as most things have gone during their past six years together)

The novelty of having other people to talk to other than their four other friends makes for a giddier, lighter atmosphere around their dorm. From sending silly pictures of each other in the various group chats they now participate in to showing off funny messages from their respective _new friends_ to each other, all four boys find that their own bond is gaining strength from their new friendships, from the fresh faces.

There’s no reason to be afraid that they’ll ever stop being _one in five_ , Minhyun ponders.

To keep that atmosphere, he chooses not to make a big deal out of what happened between him and Seongwoo. The safest course of action, for now, is acting just as friendly as the other boy does in the group chat. It wasn’t like there wasn’t a considerable distance between them from the start, from their not-so-ideal first meeting to their brief days living together as a team. Minhyun wasn’t about to delude himself into thinking there was more than a spur-of-the-moment impulse to that kiss; despite Seongwoo saying he wasn’t just _repaying a favor_ , nothing in his actions after the kiss demonstrated any other intention.

He dreams of it, on occasion, of Seongwoo’s hands on him, touch burning to his skin. Of things he thinks he’s missed during the kiss, of Seongwoo’s burning gaze on him, pulling him back from the back of his mind, pushing him into making a decision for the two of them. He dreams of little details he’s not sure are memories or only his imagination; sometimes, their kiss is glorious and his heart is in his throat and he’s in love.

Most of the time, their kiss feels like waking up from a long, mind-numbing dream, and the pull back to reality hurts much more than staying wherever he was before.

Minhyun sometimes resents Seongwoo.

Not for pretending the kiss never happened (they were definitely not new to pretending certain things never happened), nor for moving on so easily, but for forcing him to face the painful thumping of his heart without a clouded mind to help numb it down.

For forcing him to take the things he wants like he can afford them.

The memory of the kiss keeps him grounded, whether he wanted it or not – he’s not sure _that_ was Seongwoo’s intention, and he definitely doesn’t know whether to thank him or hate him for that.

Even so, their brief rest period before they’re due to reunite with the other trainees to watch the first episode passes by so quickly Minhyun barely registers they had any actual _rest_. If anything, all he sees when he faces himself in the mirror are protruding bones and sunken eyes.

He wonders if Seongwoo will find him ugly when they see each other again and laughs at his own thoughts.

xxx

Minki fixes his tie before they leave the safety of their van to enter the studio. Other trainees loiter around the entrance, getting ready to enter as well; Minhyun recognizes a few of them and feels his chest tighten with relief that hey hadn’t given up yet.

Gathering to watch the first episode together is nowhere near a task as burdensome as all the others they had been submitted to, so far. The atmosphere is lighter, and even Minki’s tough love has a soft touch to it. Minhyun relishes in it before the youngest’s voice cuts through his brief joy.

“You’re getting distracted again”, he points out, patting the tie into place a little too harshly. “You’ve been acting weird, too. Like you’re finally okay again.”

Minhyun raises an eyebrow. “Is feeling okay acting weird now?”

“Yeah, for you it is”, Minki shrugs. “I wanted to find out during our break but I was too lazy to do that and you looked happier than before, so.” He pushes Minhyun closer to the door, giving a final pat to his backside before letting him go. “I’m gonna get to that later, though, don’t worry.”

“That’s _exactly_ why I’m worried”, the slightly older boy deadpans, rolling his eyes when all Minki does is offer him a lopsided wink.

They shuffle quietly out of the van; it’s a relief when staff tells them they can choose any place to sit, because it’s the first time since auditions that they get to stay together. For once, the noise from the other boys greeting each other doesn’t feel overwhelming, and Minhyun finds it easy to smile and greet back all the boys who come to them with new found admiration in their eyes.

They find Jaehwan first, who cheerily tells them _my mom just dropped me off here, I thought I was gonna be late_ , then Hyunbin and his fellow intimidatingly tall labelmates. Daniel waves at them from a distance, already settling down with the other MMO trainees a few seats ahead.

“Isn’t that friend of yours alone here?”, Minhyun hears Dongho ask before he can even wonder where Seongwoo could be hiding at. “Ong. He could sit with us.”

Jonghyun makes a face, the one Minhyun knows is the one he makes when he really wants to say no but is ultimately too nice to say it; Minki does him the favor.

“I’d rather not”, he says, unbothered. “I don’t really like him and I need a reason other than _Minhyun wants to bone him_ to like him.”

Dongho laughs and Jonghyun scoffs in shock. “He’s mine and Minhyun’s friend?”

“Not a strong reason at all”, Minki shrugs. “Let’s sit at the back, it’s less noisy.”

The other boys make their way up front; Minhyun finally spots Seongwoo walking towards the chair Daniel had saved by his side, a bit relieved that he wouldn’t be alone. When their eyes briefly meet, they greet each other with sheepish smiles, and Minhyun relishes at the faint blush that paints Seongwoo’s face, aware that he, as well, might be burning up.

Dongho side eyes him, but says nothing. Minki is thankfully too distracted with the younger trainees around them to notice anything.

The room becomes noisier when the episode starts; with the cameras on them, the trainees make little to no effort to hold back their reactions to every moment. They’re loud enough for Minhyun to distract himself over the course of the episode, eyes occasionally wandering to the back of Seongwoo’s head several seats in front of him.

He closes his eyes when their part comes on. Familiar voices make familiar comments; they’d heard them all in hushed whispers and to their faces. _Foul play_ , _unfairness, cheating_ —Minhyun doesn’t need to look at his friends to feel their discomfort.

There is a crease on Dongho’s eyebrow, etched to his face at the hard words said about them; a few boys in the front rows lower their heads in shame. Minhyun thinks he hears a muffled sob as the story of their tragedy plays on. Minki tenses by his side, hands closed into fists, and all Minhyun can do is quietly take them into his own hands and uncurl them.

Seeing their story the way others choose to tell it leaves a bitter taste to Minhyun’s mouth; pointing fingers and looking for people and circumstances to blame is useless, by now – seeing a repeat of _Kahi noona_ crying for their fate doesn’t hit him as hard.

They’d made it this far the hard way – no cheating, like the Seongwoo on screen had accused them of, no shortcuts. Six years meant nothing when they were starting anew the way they chose to.

Minki’s hand closes again when the episode ends. He’s quiet, uncharacteristically so, as he pulls it away from Minhyun’s lap and gets up, nodding quietly in acknowledgement at other trainees trying to get his attention.

Amidst the crowd, Daniel finds them—then his labelmate Jisung, looking forlornly at them. Dongho waves his concerns off with a noncommittal shrug and a muttered _it’s fine_.

Seongwoo trails behind Daniel, looking expectantly at Minhyun; the taller boy nods at him in acknowledgement, eyes widening in surprise when Seongwoo’s hand circles his wrist and he pulls them aside, out of the circle that was beginning to form around Jonghyun and the others.

“So, uh, hey—“, Seongwoo scratches at the back of his head, looking from Minhyun’s face down to where he’s holding him by the wrist. He quickly lets it go. “Sorry about it, I—I wanted to tell you something—”

Minhyun blinks, barely reacting before another voice cuts in.

“Tell him what? Accuse him of cheating to his face?”

Minki roughly grabs Minhyun’s shoulder, pushing him aside to face Seongwoo himself; he’s not particularly loud, but the abruptness of his movements draws a bit of attention from trainees nearby.

Seongwoo presses his lips together, shoulders sagging as if he’d expected that to happen, somehow. “Listen, when I said that—”

“I don’t care when you said that”, Minki retorts; Jonghyun calls his name from a distance Minhyun doesn’t quite acknowledge, eyes glued to the impending train wreck in front of him. “You think we’re cheaters but I bet you’re happy now that your team of _cheaters_ won your battle, aren’t you?”

“Minki”, Minhyun echoes Jonghyun to no avail.

“I didn’t mean to—“, Seongwoo starts, only to be interrupted by Minki again; the onlookers are few, but they pay attention to every word exchanged among them.

“You didn’t mean it but you said it anyway”, the younger barks. “It takes a lot of nerve to accuse fellow trainees of cheating on national TV.”

Jonghyun gently places a hand on Minki’s shoulder. “That’s enough, Minki.” He glances at Seongwoo, uneasy. “It’s no use arguing over it now.”

Minki scoffs, pulling away from the leader’s grasp. “You’ll really let him get away with it, huh”, he mutters.

“We’ll get over it”, Jonghyun reasons, then turns to Seongwoo. “Sorry about that.”

“’S no problem”, Seongwoo mumbles back, backing away. “Sorry to intrude.”

“ _Sorry_ won’t cut it”, Minki manages to say before Jonghyun pulls him away to a distant corner of the room.

Behind Seongwoo, Daniel frowns in confusion, oblivious to what just had unfolded. Minhyun, stunned into silence after Minki’s outburst, barely blinks at the two of them.

He wasn’t surprised that Seongwoo had wanted to apologize that other night.

“Sor-“, Seongwoo tries again, but Minhyun finds his words first.

“Don’t worry about it”, he tells the other man calmly, “no one really cared to know anything about us before they decided they had something to say. It’s fine.”

It stings more than he had intended; Dongho, who at some point had walked over to his side, frowns at him but says nothing.

Seongwoo looks down, hanging his head in shame. “Look, I—“, he starts before Dongho sends him a pointed look that has him flinching in place. “I’ll go now. Sorry for—I’m sorry.”

_You don’t even know what you’re sorry about anymore_ , Minhyun almost wants to accuse him until he realizes he has no real reason to feel this upset.

There is only him and Dongho left when the latter asks him a hushed _you okay?_ that he barely shrugs in reply to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i HATE this ending with a PASSION but it's all i can offer
> 
> chapter/title song is dashboard confessional's the secret's in the telling uwu which i'm sure was another chapter's song as well but aaanyway. it's here now
> 
> happy holidays!!! i'm not sure this will be updated before doomsday so .

**Author's Note:**

> as always [you know where to find me](https://twitter.com/ceinturedorion)


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